


Filling the Void

by JustSimpleThings



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Jaskier | Dandelion, Alpha Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angry Jaskier | Dandelion, Angst and Feels, BUT HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Development, Childbirth, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Bliss, Emotional, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Uses His Words, Gratuitous Smut, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Inaccurate Witcher Lore, Infertility, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Minor Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg/Tissaia de Vries, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Pregnant Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, S1E6 Rare Species Fix it, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Unexpected Pregnancy, graphic birth, like they learn how to talk about stuff, lol, no beta we die like witchers, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 96,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22648231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSimpleThings/pseuds/JustSimpleThings
Summary: What if Geralt was an Omega, and he realised that he may be harbouring some errr...tenderfeelings for a certain bard whom he'd chased away?What would happen then?A whole lot of trouble of course.---Set after S1E6 Rare Species. Canon-compliant, except Geralt does not have a Child Surprise in this fic (Ciri is Eskel's Child Surprise instead). Non-Traditional A/B/O Dynamics - seriously, I changed a lot of 'rules'.Warnings: Angst, Angst, Angst, loads of misunderstandings, eventual Mpreg, and just random Smut 'cause I have no self-control!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 547
Kudos: 1389
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	1. Ponderings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to Geralt's thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Love means to commit oneself without guarantee, to give oneself completely in the hope that our love will produce love in the loved person. Love is an act of faith, and whoever is of little faith is also of little love."  
> \- Erich Fromm

Geralt had a lot of time to reflect on his choices, once he was alone on the road, having parted ways with both Yennefer and Jaskier on the same cursed day.

He blamed his Omega nature for getting attached to them in the first place, when he knew he wasn't supposed to do so: Witchers were not supposed to form bonds, and he had been able to adhere to that rule just fine, until he met those two.

Being a Witcher _and_ an Omega – while not unheard of – was certainly not a typical occurrence. The public – inaccurately – believed most Witchers to be Alphas, when in fact the vast majority of Witchers Geralt knew were Betas, including Vesemir himself. It was theorised that Betas generally reacted more favourably to the Witcher mutation genes, so they were far more likely to survive the transformation process.

Geralt had been an exception: he had survived. Arguably, secondary gender characteristics did not matter much to Witchers, as they were all infertile. However, that did not mean that their secondary gender had no influence on them at all: far from it. Geralt had learnt this first-hand about himself during his life-time. He had certain urges that would come and go during each moon, and he had come to associate these with his secondary gender, for he had no better explanation for the base, irrational impulses he experienced regularly.

The main symptoms were such: Geralt would get two-three days each months when he would feel… very easily sexually aroused. It was nothing uncontrollable, but a definite increase in his sex drive. Then, about a week or two after that, he became tired and lethargic, and about two weeks after the ‘peak’, he would start noticing that he was more irritable than usual. He would snap at the smallest things for about a week or so. Then the cycle would begin again.

In addition, Geralt had a definite weakness for children. So much so, that he had learnt to deliberately avoid being exposed to them in general, because if he was around them for extended periods of time or God forbid, if he were to engage with them, he became _besotted_ with them and then came the painful, insatiable yearning: the yearning for a child of his own.

Geralt knew he could never have that, so it was better not to even entertain the possibility. Even if he could have adopted a child, if someone would have trusted him with one or if he found an orphan somewhere, he knew that his lifestyle was definitely unsuited for child-rearing and that was beyond his control.

Witchers were _created_ to kill monsters. Geralt could easily die during one of his quests, and then who would take care of his adopted children?

No, it was far better never to have had a parent than to have one and lose them – he knew that from experience.

* * *

Sometimes, when he was riding along long, abandoned forest roads, Geralt wondered if his own mother, Visenna may have been an Omega.

Or, if maybe his father was an Omega? He never met his biological father, so Geralt couldn’t know for sure. It was damn near impossible to distinguish people’s secondary sex based on scent alone – unless an Omega was in heat or an Alpha was in rut – and Geralt was sure that he had never smelt either of these on his mother.

He wished he had though: he wished that there would have been somebody who would have educated him about what _makes_ an Omega: the changes he should expect in his body during puberty and so forth.

* * *

That was another strange thing: Geralt did not have heats.

However, that did not mean that he didn’t yearn to be knotted, because he _did_. Very much so. Especially during those few days in his cycle when his libido was running rampant, his body seeming to jump at any opportunity to be stimulated. And in his fantasies he was always taken by Alphas: male or female, but always an Alpha, because... well, because they had knots. Geralt had nothing against Betas, but he preferred a cock with a knot to a cock without a knot, if he was being honest with himself.

He yearned to be dominated, but also to be cared for, cherished - even _admired_ \- by an Alpha.

That last part was laughable, of course: why would _any_ Alpha admire _him?_

Geralt was no stereotypical Omega beauty; he had a strong, muscular physique, a masculine body type and almost no curves. There was nothing soft or fleshy on his body; nothing that was pretty or dainty.

He hated looking in the mirror and had long resigned himself to making no attempts at improving his look - what would have been the point? He would always look gruff and scary: like a Witcher.

Not an Omega. Decidedly not an Omega.

He was a freak of nature, an abomination. An infertile Omega who could _fight_. Geralt would not have wanted to saddle anyone with himself as a mate. That’s what he believed for a long while.

* * *

But then Yennefer came along and the Alpha sorceress changed everything. She made Geralt reckless: he had allowed himself to hope for something more than just physical comfort in their couplings - for the first time in his life. He hoped that Yennefer may come to love him in time, as he fell in love with her wild and defiant nature; her raw power and beauty. Yennefer was infertile too, so Geralt didn’t have to worry about his own inability to bear children for her – or so he hoped. But of course, it wasn’t meant to be – destiny wasn’t on their side. Yennefer wanted to regain her fertility – so of course she wasn’t satisfied with Geralt as a potential mate – why would she have been? He was no good. He was broken – who would want a barren Omega?

So after that, Geralt resolved himself never to allow anyone into his heart again. Sending Jaskier away was painful, but he needed time to digest his grief after the breakup with Yennefer. He definitely regretted the way he sent Jaskier on his way; after all the good Jaskier had done for him, after their decade-long friendship, the least he would have deserved would have been for Geralt to send him away kindly.

But Geralt had been too upset to do that. His emotions have been wreaking havoc on him, he saw red and he said things he did not mean, just to get rid of Jaskier more quickly. Because he knew that the bard would leave if he hurt him enough. It was the quick way. The easy way. But _not_ the right way, not by far!

Geralt hated himself for having let his emotions overwhelm him – again. If he would have been in his right mind, he never would have blamed Jaskier for his misfortunes. As soon as he had calmed down, he had realised that that hadn’t been fair, of course.

Although who knew - he mused, looking into the camp fire gloomily - ; perhaps it was for the best that their friendship was over. Finally, Jaskier would be free and perhaps, he would finally have the time to concentrate on finding a worthy mate without Geralt there to distract him with his adventures and journeys to far away lands.

Perhaps Jaskier would settle down - perhaps he was already settling down now that he was rid of Geralt, and perhaps he would have his own family one day. Geralt should have felt happy for him, although it was hard to feel anything, but sadness and bitterness at the thought. Which was yet another proof that Geralt was a shitty friend: he should have been happy for Jaskier, but he couldn’t.

If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that he felt _jealous_ of Jaskier’s potential partners: anyone who would claim the bard and get to keep him forever, when he couldn’t.

Not that he’d ever tried to; but he wouldn’t have wanted to do that anyway: Jaskier deserved a partner who could bear children for him. End of the story!

And it wasn’t as if Geralt had ever felt _attracted_ to Jaskier, strictly speaking. Maybe a tiny bit when the bard was giving him a back rub while he was sitting in the tub after a long, exhausting fight – but that was just a basic physical reaction; Geralt would have reacted like that to anyone who would have deigned to massage him in that moment, right?

* * *

And yet… surprisingly, he found himself yearning for Jaskier’s company and his _touch_ , more often than he liked to admit it to himself in the initial weeks after their separation.

It was easier not to think of Yennefer than it was not to think of Jaskier; the bard had always been by his side. Geralt would find himself requesting a room with two beds by mistake and looking for the bard in every inn he stepped into.

He was never there, naturally. It hurt and stung.

* * *

Perhaps it was just a _habit_. He had made a habit of leaning on Jaskier, of depending on him – and he was paying the price now.

He needed to create new routines and then the new habits would take the place of the old ones, once and for all.

* * *

Geralt woke panting, bathing in his own sweat with a raging hard-on and the distinct throbbing feeling of arousal in his arse. This was the third night in the last couple of weeks when he had woken up like this after dreaming of _Jaskier_.

He hated to admit it, but instead of fading away, his yearning for the bard has _worsened_. He found himself thinking of Jaskier more and more – imagining what he might say if he was there, how he would look at Geralt, what he might do if Geralt did this or that… It was an unhealthy obsession that made him resent the bard’s absence more and more.

And if all that wasn’t bad enough, now the bard had invaded Geralt’s dreams as well. At first, the dreams were innocent: Geralt would relive actual memories of him and Jaskier sleeping next to each other on cold winter nights in the forest. The one time Jaskier had cuddled Geralt for warmth under the covers.

Another night, he dreamt about Jaskier bathing him – but it was _not_ the same as the actual memory. Not at all! In the dream, Jaskier did things he had _never_ done in real life with Geralt: he called Geralt pretty and beautiful, he demanded to personally wash every inch of Geralt, including his neither regions – which made him blush, even in the dream.

Then, when the water was cooling down, the bard helped him out of the tub and led Geralt to a beautiful bed dressed with the finest satins and silks. Jaskier waited until Geralt had laid down and then he took his fragrant oils and gave him the longest, most thorough massage of his entire life.

But the worst part was that Jaskier continued _talking_ to him: he told Geralt how beautiful his broad shoulders were. How perfect and round his arse was. How he wanted to ravish him; dream-Jaskier was begging _him_ to have him, to let him fuck him and Geralt was so desperately turned on by then, he couldn’t even understand why the bard was asking for permission! Wasn’t it clear that Geralt wanted him too?

But then Geralt would wake up and realise that it was just a dream. Instead of enjoying his erotic dreams, he had come to dread them, because once regained his consciousness and looked around the empty room, he couldn’t help feeling lonely and unwanted.

Because the Jaskier in his dreams _wasn’t_ the real Jaskier.

The _real Jaskier_ would never have said or done the things his dream version did – so what was the point in fantasising about it, hoping for things he couldn’t have?

His sweat was beginning to cool and his erection wilted and died away. Geralt sighed as he re-arranged the covers over himself, trying to find a drier spot in the bed. It was futile.

Feeling annoyed and sleep-deprived, he finally decided – he needed to deal with this. He couldn’t control his own dreams, but he could go to see the bard – and clear up his feelings once and for all. Jaskier will reject him and then Geralt will be able to move on; just like he moved on from Yen.

Resolve steeled, Geralt turned to his other side on the bed and finally, blessedly slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Reader! 
> 
> Thank you for reading this first chapter. I know the story begins a bit slowly; this first chapter is all about setting the scene and explaining the alterations I made to the Witcher universe (A/B/O dynamics and all). I hope I managed to do an okay job at that.
> 
> The pace will pick up from the next chapter onwards, because Geralt will meet Jaskier soon ;) There will be lots more dialogue from that point on.
> 
> I hope you stick around to read more :) Kudos and comments are always appreciated 💜


	2. All Roads Lead to Blaviken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt sets out on his search for Jaskier and discovers some unpleasant truths in the process.

Geralt had always been attracted to Alphas… Yet, he found himself having erotic dreams about Jaskier.

Apparently, his subconscious was attracted to the bard, although Geralt was pretty sure that he _wasn’t_ an Alpha. Geralt would have known it if he was, because surely, he should have been able to smell the scent of his rut on him at least once over the many years of their acquaintanceship?

It wasn’t a polite thing to ask one about one’s secondary gender; so Geralt learnt not to ask. Despite the common misconception that Alphas and Omegas had a distinctive scent, Witchers knew this wasn’t the case: the truth was far more complicated.

Every human had a distinctive scent. For Betas, this scent didn’t change much, perhaps it could get stronger or weaker, but there would be no changes in the _quality_ of the scent. However, when it came to Alphas and Omegas, heat or rut had a characteristic smell which during heat would mingle with their own personal scent, as if someone had sprayed a strong perfume over themselves. It changed their scent - a lot.

The scent of rut or heat was detectable even for the average human nose; and for some reason, humans mistakenly thought that this meant that _all_ Alpha’s and Omega’s smelled like that all the time and the scent just wasn’t strong enough to be picked up by a human nose outside of the periods of heat.

 _If only!_ It would have been laughably easy for Witchers to tell people’s secondary gender if that was the case. Some Witchers certainly exaggerated their smelling abilities and may have claimed to be capable of such tricks. Utter bollocks, it was, of course, just like their supposed ‘mind reading’ abilities. Geralt could never understand why these legends were invented or encouraged by some of his kin.

Geralt had known Yennefer was an Alpha because… well, because he slept with her.

She had a huge cock _and_ a knot.

Strong hint there.

Jaskier, on the other hand…

Jaskier hadn’t told him what he was and Geralt didn’t ask. (The Witcher hadn’t told him that he was an Omega either, come to think of it.) Geralt had never seen Jaskier naked, and never noticed any changes in his smell.

Jaskier smelled purely like… Jaskier. It was a deep, heady scent, one of the most pleasant scents Geralt had ever smelled. Jaskier smelled like booze – like good wine or rum, with hints of oak, but without the scent of alcohol. He always recognised Jaskier’s scent instantly whenever he was close to him. Sometimes, when he went to sleep alone, if Jaskier’s kit was on the other bed, Geralt would steal one of his shirts, just to be able to smell it, because it was familiar and it helped him fall asleep faster.

Considering that nowadays Geralt was jerking off almost daily thinking of the bard… coloured _that_ particular habit in a new light! A decidedly _pervier_ light.

Geralt couldn’t fathom how he could have been so _blind_ that he hadn’t noticed that he had fallen for Jaskier! But then again, Geralt had always been a master at suppressing his own desires.

***

Strangely, as soon as Geralt had decided to look for Jaskier, he instantly felt lighter.

He told himself that it was because he _finally_ had something to do that required all of his attention: Geralt was good at tracking, but it was by no means an easy process. It required a great deal of skills and effort to track down the bard, because the Witcher had no idea where to start. Jaskier could have been anywhere - quite literally!

At first, Geralt thought finding the bard would be child’s play: he knew all of Jaskier’s preferences after all. He knew what sort of inns the bard liked, he knew the kind of towns and villages he was fond of, the areas he was usually drawn to (the coast, of course). Yet after a month of fruitless searching, Geralt had to concede that Jaskier had either changed his preferences or he was doing his best to avoid Geralt.

In the end, Geralt got lucky. He went by a town Jaskier used to love to frequent in the past and he went through all the inns and taverns to be found there, asking the inn-keep at each of the places if they had seen a bard who sang songs of a Witcher. There, at one of the lower-end establishments, one of the inn-keeps finally had an answer for him.

“Oh, you mean the bard who used to accompany the White Wolf, Geralt of Rivia?” Hearing the man’s words made Geralt’s heart sink with regret, but he nodded. “Well, that bard was here a fortnight ago, but then he got into an argument – I believe the patrons wanted him to sing that famous song about the Witcher and the bard wouldn’t! He did well to disappear quickly after that!” The inn-keep smirked at Geralt, making the gesture of a fist with one of his hands.

It was only thanks to Geralt’s famous self-restraint that he didn’t punch the barman himself in reply.

“Did he say where he was headed?” Geralt asked through clenched teeth.

The inn-keep’s smirk disappeared, and he looked a bit pale as he hastened to reply: “Oh, yes! I seem to remember he mentioned he was heading to Novigrad… or Blaviken? … Yes, Blaviken it was! He had big plans for it too, he was planning to stay there for a long time! I tried to persuade him to stay, but, alas…”

Geralt stopped listening to the man as soon as he had given him the information he needed. He slapped a few coins on the dirty, grease-covered countertop, turned around and headed out to the stables to collect Roach.

He let out a loud curse as soon as he was outside the inn. _Blaviken!_ Oh, of course it had to be Blaviken! The place that Geralt is forever banned from.

If he had any doubt that Jaskier was trying to avoid him on purpose, that had all been dispelled now.

Jaskier could not have chosen a place where he was _less_ likely to run into the Witcher if he tried!

However, Geralt wanted to meet Jaskier… to apologise, to set things right between them. And, of course, to address his apparent interest in pursuing… something more with him. Perhaps. If he could make himself say that part. Geralt hoped he could.

The journey to Blaviken would take a few days, but Geralt was in no hurry. If what the inn-keep said was true, then Jaskier should be there for a while. Geralt needed to figure out how would get into the town unnoticed.

* * *

When he was just a day’s ride away from Blaviken, he made sure to create a big fire for the night, so he would have plenty of ashes and soot left in the morning. He used the soot to coat his white hair – the feature that marked him as the White Wolf the most. His hair turned an ashen black colour, which seemed odd enough that Geralt himself was surprised when he looked at his reflection in the little lake nearby. That would do.

Thankfully, the famed events which gave him the name of “The Butcher of Blaviken” had happened almost twenty years ago – so it was reasonable to hope that most of the people who had witnessed the events would have moved on by now, either because they moved away, or well – because they were dead. Geralt was cursed with an unnaturally long life, but most humans tended to meet their deaths at an early age, especially since monsters became so numerous in recent times.

Still, Geralt was determined to take every precaution. On the day when he rode out to Blaviken, just an hour or so before his arrival, he took the potion that he normally used to conceal his glow-in-the-dark eyes when he had to fight a monster in the dark: the potion would diminish his eyes light-reflecting properties, giving them a more normal-looking hazel hue.

He went into the town with Roach by his side, hood down. His plan had seemed to work well: no one batted an eye at him, now that he was just a man with dark hair and dark robes.

Geralt was ready to ask about Jaskier again, if need be, but as it turned out, there was no need for that at all: he could smell Jaskier’s scent as soon as he got to the main street of Blaviken. After so long of only spotting the faintest hints of it and having become extremely attuned to it during the tracking process, it felt like he was hit by the face with it now that it was finally _there_! Bold, deep and heady, and undeniably: Jaskier.

Geralt became a bit dazed as he was taking in the scent, and was almost knocked over the next minute, as a passing carriage slammed against him.

‘Hey, watch out!’ The man yelled at Geralt, waving his head in annoyance.

Geralt looked after him and then he froze, as he spotted a familiar silhouette on the other end of the road.

Jaskier was wearing one of his signature puffy taffeta outfits, this one in an aubergine colour, and he stood out from the crowd like always… but he wasn’t alone. He had an elegantly dressed lady on his arm, and they seemed to be chatting along happily. At one point, Jaskier must have cracked a joke, because he winked and the lady – more a girl, really – laughed throwing her head back and leaning against Jaskier.

Geralt felt his blood run cold at the sight. Then he remembered why he was here, and he quickly stepped into the shadows of one of the nearby merchant stalls. Apparently, Jaskier was doing fine… and that was fine. Good, in fact. Still, Jaskier deserved an apology from him, at least, so Geralt would do that… and then never bother the bard again, unless he himself sought out Geralt’s company again. But in order to talk with the bard, he had to find where he was staying first, so that they could have a private talk in Jaskier’s room, wherever that was at the moment.

So Geralt followed them. It felt like he was hunting a dear – only much easier. As Jaskier and his companion strolled along the bustling streets of Blaviken, despite the noise of other city dwellers, it was easy for Geralt to hear what they were talking about.

“You should come along” The girl said suddenly, turning towards Jaskier. “To the ball on Saturday! All the nobleman from the county will be there. Surely you could find someone… a generous patron perhaps, who would appoint you as court singer?”

But Jaskier shook his head, smiling softly. “And make me leave Blaviken? No, my fairest…” He took the maiden’s hand and lifted it to his lips. “I am quite happy here.”

The girl rolled her eyes, but tellingly, she didn’t object when Jaskier placed a chaste kiss onto her hand.

“And besides” Jaskier continued. “I told you I intend to stay here for a while.”

“God knows why!” The girl interjected in an exasperated tone. “I would do _anything_ to be able to leave! Nothing ever happens here. This is the most boring place on Earth!”

Jaskier strategically chose that moment to help the girl avoid stepping into a large puddle, as she was too busy eyeing Jaskier to watch where she was going. Jaskier grabbed her by the shoulders to halt her and then - _the lecherous bastard_ – had the audacity to wink with a shit-eating grin.

“Well, perhaps it will be less dull now that I am here” Jaskier leant in suggestively, lowering his voice, and the maid shivered. “You know where I’m staying… come by when your father is out of town. If you like.”

And with that, he bid farewell to the maiden with a slight bow and went on his way.

Geralt noticed that he was grabbing the hilt of his sword so strongly that his fingers were beginning to go numb, so he let go of it and attempted to relax his hands before he continued trailing Jaskier.

He did not have to follow the bard long to find out where he was staying. Geralt decided that it would be easier to get into Jaskier’s room unnoticed during the evening – all the more because by then the inn downstairs would be busy and the noises would help block out any potential noise Jaskier might make when Geralt surprised him. Because – unfortunately – Geralt had to consider the possibility that Jaskier would not be happy to see him, and he might try to get rid of Geralt – by calling for help, for instance. All Jaskier would need to do would be to shout Geralt’s name, and he would be fucked.

So Geralt settled in to wait until nightfall. He took Roach to a local blacksmith to get her fitted for new shoes, and paid them to put her up for the night.

When he was done with that, he went back to the inn, and settled into a waiting position. There was a tall tree just opposite the inn, with thick heavy branches strong enough to support Geralt’s weight, so he climbed up and selected a branch that was shielded from view.

Geralt tried to meditate to calm his nerves. It would do no good to rehearse what he was going to say to Jaskier – he knew what he wanted to say already, damn it.

A few minutes after he had started his meditation, he was jolted into awareness when he heard a familiar singing voice. Jaskier was playing his lute as he sang. Geralt did his best not to eavesdrop on him this time, but it was no use: he could hear the words loud and clear.

> Your fingertips across my skin
> 
> The birches swaying in the wind
> 
> Images.
> 
> I sang you Spanish lullabies
> 
> The sweetest sadness in your eyes!
> 
> Clever trick.

_Some insipid love song…_ _He must be practicing for his performance tonight_ \- Geralt thought.

Jaskier’s voice became lower pitched as he continued his ballad.

> Well, I'd never want to see _you_ unhappy -
> 
> I thought you'd want the same for me?

Geralt had to strain to hear the last few words, as Jaskier’s voice became softer and softer, and he was shocked to hear that his voice sounded… weak and strained. As if… he was crying? But that couldn’t be. Although Jaskier could be melodramatic, Geralt had never seen him cry actual tears.

His voice bounced back and became stronger as he continued.

> Goodbye, my almost lover
> 
> Goodbye, my hopeless dream!
> 
> I'm trying not to think about you
> 
> Can't you just let me be?
> 
> So long, my luckless romance
> 
> My back is turned on you
> 
> Should've known you'd bring me heartache
> 
> Almost lovers always… do…

It was apparent that Jaskier was love-sick over someone – again. Perhaps it was the Countess of Stael that left her rudely… again.

Geralt was half tempted to climb off the tree and leave the bard to himself, because this performance felt... intimate. It was clearly not intended for an audience.

Yet, as Jaskier continued, Geralt found himself glued to the spot.

> I cannot go to the ocean,
> 
> I cannot walk the streets at night,
> 
> I cannot wake up in the morning
> 
> Without you on my mind!
> 
> So you're gone and I'm haunted
> 
> And I bet you are just --- fine...
> 
> Did I make it that easy to walk
> 
> right in and out… Of my life?

Geralt had never heard Jaskier’s voice sound like that. Whoever it was he was singing about, it sounded… real.

Jaskier was putting _all_ of his feelings into the performance. There was none of the usual cheer, charm and levity in his voice: it sounded like he was singing for his life, choking up at multiple points, but then carrying on nonetheless… Again, something that wasn’t typical of the Jaskier Geralt knew.

Jaskier was a perfectionist - and a vain one at that. He loved his voice to sound crystal clear and well-oiled. Not... raw as it was now.

Again, Geralt felt confused: could it be that he didn’t _truly_ know Jaskier? After so many years of travelling with him…

Ever since Geralt had started tracking down the bard, he met surprise after surprise. Could it be that he had underestimated Jaskier? He took him for granted, because he thought he knew him… when in fact… it seems he didn’t know him half as well as he had thought.

Jaskier’s started up on the chorus of the song again, in a slower, melancholy voice.

Geralt had heard enough. He felt even more on edge now than he did when climbed up into the tree to meditate. Huffing in annoyance, he climbed down and made his way out of the city to wait for nightfall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song in this chapter is 'Almost Lover' by A Fine Frenzy - all credit goes to them! It is a lovely song. I modified the lyrics a little bit to fit it to the story and the medieval setting :)
> 
> I'm really sorry this update is a bit late, and there is still quite a lot of musing. Starting from the next chapter, Geralt and Jaskier will be interacting constantly though! I have big things in store ;) 
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! They are appreciated and adored to bits.


	3. The Talk - I.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt finally finds Jaskier in Blaviken, and he decides to confront the bard by sneaking into his room in the evening.

Geralt noticed when Jaskier left his room to go and eat in the pub, and he grabbed his chance. Climbing in through the window was child's play: now all he had to do was settle in and wait.

That was easier said than done. Geralt caught himself itching to touch Jaskier’s stuff… just to scent it. To make sure it is his. (Although he already knew it was him, and not a doppelganger; the whole room smelled of Jaskier without a doubt.)

After a second’s hesitation, Geralt caved and he grabbed the first item of clothing that he found on the bed. It was a grey silk doublet, one that Jaskier had worn a lot during their travels together. The material was worn and a bit thin in places, but considering its age, it was in excellent condition; proof to Jaskier’s careful doting towards the garb. Geralt smirked as he remembered how protective Jaskier could be of some of his favourite pieces: sometimes going as far as to not mind being injured by a beast _so long as_ his outfit escaped unscathed!

He took the doublet and pushed it to his nose. Smelling it was pure bliss. It was a very concentrated scent of Jaskier: the characteristic scent of his sweat mingled with the fragrant oils he liked to use (chamomile, lavender and cedar), mixed with the scent of leather (his leather pouch), and smoke from staying in narrow taverns with large fireplaces and inadequate ventilation.

Geralt sat down on Jaskier’s bed (the only furniture in the small room to be fair) and settled in to wait. Suddenly, the prospect did not seem as grim as it did before.

* * *

Jaskier treated himself to a good, hearty meal. Thankfully, he could afford it easily, because he had earnt a decent amount in the last few towns he had stayed at. Business had been a bit slow here in Blaviken – probably because it is such a small town and its inhabitants are… well. Less than rich, let’s just say! But considering the lack of wealth in the area, they did honour Jaskier’s services with as much coin as they could spare. Thankfully, the prices were low to match the lower income, so Jaskier was doing fine. He had estimated that he may even have enough coin to buy some new accessories – parchment, ink, quill mainly – in a week or two.

He sighed as he had finished his meal. Although he was content, he couldn’t help but feel a bit drained. Blaviken was… it was a nice little town, but not one Jaskier would have chosen for himself, if he would have had a choice. Sadly, he had to agree with the girl he met today: the town _was_ boring! And the people around here lacked imagination, which was even worse.

But all of that did not matter because he didn’t have a choice… Geralt did not leave him any other choices.

Jaskier had been shocked when he heard rumours that there was a Witcher who was asking after him. Rumours travel fast, especially when one is the target of them. Jaskier had a bit of fun, doing everything he could to confuse Geralt about his whereabouts. However, he grew tired of that game pretty quickly, and Geralt did not seem to get the message. The Witcher was still trailing him: Jaskier saw that with his own eyes. He could not believe it when he almost got caught by Geralt in a little village. After that, Jaskier decided to head to the one place, Geralt would not follow him: Blaviken.

It was a clear provocation from his part. A message to Geralt, that would spell it out to him, even if he was too thick to understand the bard’s more subtle hints: _Leave me alone_.

Jaskier’s wounds were still too fresh. He did not know when – if ever – he would be ready to face the Witcher again, but he was certain about one thing: that time was not now. Not just a few mere months after his heartbreak, after being sent away by Geralt in the cruellest, most degrading way possible…

Jaskier could have forgiven Geralt if he ran after him right after the fact. But that’s the thing: he didn’t. No. He didn’t even try to seek him out! That much was clear because Jaskier waited around in the village at the bottom of the mountain, in the exact same inn they last stayed at together… for two weeks. Then, heartbroken, but decided, he moved on. And he hasn’t stopped moving since.

At first, he wanted to go to the coast, but he quickly realised that the only reason he wanted to go there was to show Geralt all of his favourite places around there. Jaskier had planned it all in his head: where they would go, where they would stay. Going there on his own after that… It would have felt awful. Like defeat. A constant reminder that he couldn’t convince Geralt to do something nice for him, _just once_ in his life.

So the coast was out of the question. But otherwise, Jaskier wandered around aimlessly… until he heard rumours of Geralt looking for him, some half a year after they’ve parted ways.

And now, here he was. Stuck in Blaviken – by choice, but stuck nonetheless. At least he didn’t have to worry about Geralt showing up. The Witcher had always avoided this town like the plague… since the incident. Jaskier often wondered how that had happened. He didn’t know much about it and Geralt obviously wouldn’t tell him… So all he knew was what people said: that Geralt had slaughtered a bunch of men, and their leader, a girl called Renfri. There were also rumours that the two of them had been rather familiarly acquainted before Geralt ended up taking the girl’s life. That would not have surprised Jaskier – Geralt always tended to go for sexy but insane women… like Yennefer.

“Two beers please!” Jaskier shouted, having decided to drown his sorrows. Getting drunk would help make his performance better anyway!

 _I guess I wasn’t insane enough… or female enough for his liking_ – Jaskier mused as he downed the first pint in one go.

Then he looked around and his eyes fell on a woman, a local legend here in Blaviken: Marilka. She was the most “unwomanly” woman Jaskier had ever had the pleasure of meeting. She was a lumberjack by profession and had the arms to show for it. They were almost as thick as Jaskier’s thighs, for crying out loud!

Marilka chose that moment to show off her strength: a few of the men challenged her to try and smash a pint glass in one palm; she did it with ease and didn’t even cut herself.

 _Yeah, Geralt would probably go for her._ – Jaskier thought. – _She’s his type. A sexy and dangerous girl with a huge cock!_ – He intended his observation as a humorous insult to the Witcher, but the thought just made him feel sour.

 _Because it’s true, you bloody git!_ \- His inner voice continued. - _And the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you! Geralt has made his choice. His words may have been hurtful, but he meant what he said…_ – When he got to that point, Jaskier couldn’t help but shudder. – _**Perhaps** that was the only time he had ever truly meant what he said; when he shouted at you on that mountaintop. _

Jaskier reached for his second pint and made short work of that one too. He stood up, feeling slightly off-balance, but nothing worse than his usual, and made his way up to the stairs to the modest little room he was renting.

As soon as he opened the door, he had a bad feeling. His window was open – did he leave it open? He couldn’t remember. He probably did.

He banged the door shut behind himself and hopped down onto his bed – and then jumped up again.

“What the actual _flying_ fuck…?!” Jaskier shouted in a decidedly unmanly voice. His heart was pounding out of his chest because of the scare he had just had, as he spotted Geralt who was standing right next to the door, one leg resting casually against the doorframe.

As soon as the initial shock began to wear off, Jaskier felt his blood begin to boil.

“What the _actual_ fuck?!” He repeated, with more emphasis this time. “What do you think you are doing in my room?”

Geralt began in a calm and steady voice: “Jaskier, I’m sorry…”

“Get. Out.” Jaskier interrupted him, pointing meaningfully at the door.

Geralt stopped and sighed, looking squarely at the bard. “No.” He said, in the same calm, even voice.

Jaskier felt absolutely livid by that point.

“What do you mean ‘no’? It wasn’t a question! It was an order! Fucking get the _fuck out_!!!!” Jaskier shouted with all of his might – and that was something. It was loud. Despite the roaring noise of the tavern downstairs, Jaskier’s yell could surely have been heard in the whole town.

Geralt looked around, betraying the first signs of his nervousness. “Jaskier, please, calm down…”

The Witcher seemed… was he _scared_? Jaskier’s eyes widened in surprise.

He laughed maniacally. “Oh hohoho! Ah, you _are_ afraid of me! – You know that you can’t corner me here? If I wanted to, I could get the _whole inn_ to come running up here, and get you thrown out like a stray mutt into the rain, as you deserve!”

Geralt paled as Jaskier carried on with sadistic delight.

The bard felt half sick as he was saying the words, but he couldn’t stop himself: all of the sadness and despair he had felt in the past couple of months turned into anger and was pouring out of him, towards the man who was the cause of all his pain.

He stood up straighter, putting his hands on his hips.

“Tell me again, _Geralt_ ” The name sounded like an insult on his tongue. “Why are you not welcome around here? Hmmm, I forgot…” Jaskier said in a exaggerated musing tone.

Geralt held both of his hand up in front of himself, palms facing outwards. “Jaskier, _please_ …”

“Oh, I've remembered!” Jaskier chirped, in a mock-cheerful voice. “You are the Butcher of Blaviken! You’re a monster, a cold-blooded killer, a _freak_ …!”

It happened in the blink of an eye. Geralt was on him, the Witcher had Jaskier pinned against the bare wall, hands around his neck – the pressure wasn’t enough to choke Jaskier in earnest, but enough that it made it harder for him to breathe. He laughed.

“Oh, yes! Prove that you’re a monster! Why don’t you just _kill me_? Huh? Finish what you’ve started!” Jaskier spat, voice full of contempt.

Geralt snarled at him, but his brows knotted in confusion. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Jaskier kicked against him, trying wildly to get out of Geralt’s hold, to no avail. All the trashing made him out of breath. He kept hitting and kicking at Geralt nonetheless… He felt… so rotten, so angry, so _bitter_ ….!

“You ruined my fucking life!” Jaskier choked out the words through the tears that had sprung into his eyes, wiping them away angrily. “You ruined everything…”

Geralt seemed taken aback, standing back a bit and letting go of Jaskier’s neck. “I… how?”

“How, you fucking git?” Jaskier looked up at the Witcher, having regained some of his composure now that he was no longer being strangled, for _fuck’s sake_! “That’s all you can say?” He said expectantly. “‘How?’” He felt his temper rising again.

Geralt interrupted him. “Jaskier, I…!” Geralt stopped whatever he was going to say, seemingly at a loss of words. He looked away, but then looked back at Jaskier, and… he kneeled down in front of him. Jaskier gaped in shock.

Geralt kept looking up at him. “Please…” He said, seeming to be gearing himself up for something…

And then he was out of words again.

Jaskier was momentarily shocked by the blatant display of Geralt’s… submission? Goodwill? He was still angry but felt placated by seeing Geralt humiliate himself like this… in a way which he may never have displayed to anyone before – save for actual kings of course. It felt… Good.

The bard crossed his arms. “All right. You came here to say something – correct?” Jaskier asked. Geralt nodded.

“Out with it.”

Geralt stayed where he was, on his knees, even as he began to speak in a low, strained voice. “I… I came here to apologise for the things I said last time… on the mountain.” He sighed, sagging visibly. Jaskier watched on.

“I… it wasn’t right. It wasn’t right to blame you for everything… for the djinn, for Yennefer leaving me… it… they were my choices. I just –“ Geralt shook his head, and then carried on in a stronger, surer voice. “I was angry. And I took it out on you.” Geralt looked up at Jaskier, as is he was hoping for a sign from him. Jaskier gave nothing.

“So I came to apologise, because… you deserve to hear it. Even if you don’t want anything to do with me… I’m sorry.”

Jaskier nodded, staying unmoved.

“Is that all you came here for?”

Geralt looked up at the bard, seeming surprised and bewildered, but remained speechless.

Jaskier nodded his head slightly.

“If that’s all, you can go now.”

Geralt clenched his hands into fists as he ground out: “There is more.”

Jaskier gave him a sarcastic look. “Is there? You could have fooled me.” He went over to his little nightstand which had a water jug on it and poured himself a glass, feeling tired all of a sudden. “Well, go on then… out with it.”

Geralt sighed again, looking miserable. Jaskier saw red.

“If this is such an inconvenience for you, you can just go, you know?” The bard quipped angrily. “You would be doing us both a favour!” He stood up angrily, water forgotten. “I mean, what the _fuck_ else was I supposed to do to signal to you that I don’t want to see you? I came here!” He gestured around the room. “To this Godforsaken shithole, just so you would leave me alone! But you--- you are too bull-headed and arrogant to respect anyone’s wishes other than your own as always and…!”

“Jaskier!” Geralt snapped in his most commanding voice. There was silence for a second before he continued. “I – this is not easy for me either, damn it! I came here because I realised that I made a mistake… and I wanted to try and regain your friendship… at least.” Geralt winced at his wording – again, he hadn’t said what he actually wanted to say.

“Why?” Jaskier snapped. “ _Now_ you realise you need me? After you’ve thrown me away like a broken toy?” Jaskier crossed his arms again, turning his back on Geralt. “Well I’m sorry, but I won’t come running back to you again! Not this time.”

The anger seemed to evaporate from him as he spoke; as soon as he’s finished his last sentence, he just felt weary, more than anything. He swallowed. “You’ve really fucked up this time, Geralt.”

Geralt simply nodded: “I know.”

The Witcher seemed so… complacent. So willing to acknowledge his mistakes… _If only he would have done so all those months ago…_

Jaskier sighed.

“Geralt, I… don’t know if I can forgive you. And if the time apart from you has taught me anything… it is that I am better off without you.” _Because it hurts less_ – he didn’t say.

Geralt nodded slowly.

“I understand. I – expected that.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to look bewildered. “What- you…? You expected this? Not for me to fall to your knees and forgive you?”

Geralt shook his head. “Why would you? I’ve been a shit friend and worse travel companion… I never understood why you followed me in the first place. So no, this doesn’t surprise me, that you… you realised you are better off without me.”

Jaskier felt too shocked to answer. In all of the years of their friendship, he would have never expected that Geralt of Rivia was… that he felt… that he was grateful for Jaskier’s friendship. That was… unexpected.

He barely had time to digest as Geralt continued.

“But before I leave” Geralt said, shuffling as if getting ready to stand, which made Jaskier flinch. “There is one thing I need to ask you.”

Geralt stood up and stepped a bit closer to Jaskier who was standing next to the nightstand still, water forgotten.

“I – I am really sorry to bother you with this, but I need to know… for sure. So that I can leave you alone, forever. I – need to be sure.”

Jaskier felt disappointment and resentment prickling under his skin again. _Oh yes, only thinking of yourself as usual._

“Well, what is it?” He asked, perhaps a touch angrily. Geralt seemed to reel back as if slapped.

“Would – would you have ever considered a relationship with me?”

There was deafening silence in the wake of their words. Jaskier felt ill.

“What do you mean?” He asked, looking at Geralt properly this time.

Geralt gritted his teeth. “Would – you have considered having a relationship with me? As a romantic partner?”

Jaskier felt as if he was stabbed in the gut. Why was Geralt asking this? Was this some sort of sick joke? Was this…? Even he couldn’t be this cruel, surely?

Geralt nodded solemnly.

“I… thank you… I….” Geralt seemed truly stuck on his words now and instead turned away to Jaskier’s mortification, grabbed the door handle.

“Wait!” Jaskier ground out. “Why are you asking this?”

Suddenly, Geralt seemed to have lost his patience.

“I told you!” He snapped. “Because I wanted to know for sure! That you didn’t want me – like _that_!” He spat out.

“Like what?” Jaskier asked, uncomprehendingly, with a sinking feeling.

“As your _Omega_!” Geralt sniped back. “Fuck!” Geralt took a step away from Jaskier, seeming ready to flee through the window.

“Geralt, wait!” Jaskier bellowed. “Calm down! Wait.”

Amazingly… For once in his life, Geralt listened, although he seemed incredibly tense and ready to jump at any opportunity to run away. _Not this time_ – Jaskier thought, resolve steeled.

Jaskier went up to Geralt, took his hand and gently but firmly lead him to the bed. “Sit.” Geralt did, thank God.

Jaskier took a deep breath, forcing a calmness onto himself he didn’t feel at the moment.

He gestured at them. “ _We_ are going to talk. _You_ are going to listen and answer when asked. And _for God’s sake_ don’t you dare leave this room before I tell you to leave, or I’m through with you once and for all and I will curse your memory till my dying days – _is that clear_?” Jaskier asked with the utmost seriousness in his voice.

Geralt nodded.

Jaskier nodded as well, feeling relieved. “All right…”

Jaskier turned his attention to Geralt again… who was resolutely not looking at him but was at least physically there. Which was. Good. Everything else… they work out – Jaskier hoped. As long as Geralt stayed here long enough for said issues to be worked out.

Jaskier sighed. “Now… I need another beer. And you need one too. No arguing.” Geralt didn’t argue.

Jaskier went down to get the two ales. He was half-expecting Geralt to be gone by the time he got back, but thankfully, the Witcher was exactly where he had left him. He accepted the ale without a word.

“You are very welcome…” Jaskier mumbled, half-annoyed. He was shocked when Geralt spoke:

“Thank you..”

“Um. That’s okay” Jaskier said, feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. He couldn’t figure this Geralt out! This was NOT the Geralt he knew… It was – unnerving. Jaskier considered himself a good study of character. Yet he couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

Jaskier downed half of his pint. Geralt downed the whole pint.

“Ah sorry… should have gotten you more.”

“Nah, it’s... it’s okay. Thanks.” And there it was the “th”-word, _again_! Wow.

Jaskier gathered his thoughts.

“So… You asked me if I wanted you as a romantic partner… as an Omega. My question is – why?” Geralt seemed annoyed and Jaskier interrupted him before he could speak. “Do not say that ‘you’ve wanted to be sure’ again! _Why_ do you want to be sure?”

Geralt swallowed visibly.

“Because… I would be – amenable.”

Jaskier flinched.

“Amenable?” He repeated. “What, you mean you have given up on dating and you figured… ‘Might as well give Jaskier a go’? ‘He’ll do’? No thanks, Geralt...!” Jaskier laughed bitterly.

He was jolted out of his laughing when Geralt grabbed him.

‘No – I … I think I have been attracted to you, for a long time… but I thought… I knew…. I’m not your type, Jaskier!” Geralt burst out in frustration.

It was Jaskier’s turn to laugh again.

“Not my type? What is my type, Geralt?”

Geralt began to speak, but Jaskier interrupted again.

“No, never mind that! Ok, so you thought – you’re not my type… but surely, you would have noticed that I was always there for you? That I washed your hair? I gave you back rubs, for God’s sake! What else was I supposed to do to signal that I was interested?”

“You were?” Geralt said, eloquently.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, you moron! Yes!”

Jaskier couldn’t say anything more because Geralt kissed him and pushed him down on the bed. Which Jaskier was very much on board with. He kissed him back, filthily, in all the ways he had imagined he would want to explore Geralt, if he ever got the chance. Jaskier nipped on Geralt’s lower lip and Geralt gave a shuddering moan, which was _delicious_ … so right, he was the one giving him this pleasure! Omega, _his_ Omega!

Jaskier’s brain was taken over by a hormonal daze as he wrestled Geralt onto his side, and then he crawled over him, covering him with his body – all of Geralt’s gorgeous body beneath him. He shivered. They needed to slow down if they wanted this to go anywhere…

“Geralt” Jaskier ground out, with what felt like superhuman effort. “If we are going to do this… I need to know… What do you want?”

“Fuck me” Geralt groaned without hesitation – which, wow, this would be wet dream material for months and months to come, Jaskier almost came undone there and then just from those two syllables… But no, it wasn’t enough of an answer. Jaskier gritted his teeth, as Geralt began to rut against him, dry-humping him.

“Wait-wait!” Jaskier steadied Geralt’s hips, who gave him a murderous glare… and fuck if that wasn’t sexy too. “I meant – If I fuck you – do you want to be knotted? Because that’d be important to know!”

Geralt squinted at him. “Knotted?”

“Yes, knotted!”

Geralt groaned and impossibly, Jaskier could feel Geralt’s cock grow even harder where it was pressed against his thigh.

“You’re an Alpha…” Geralt murmured in awe.

Jaskier grinned. “As much as you’re an Omega!”

Geralt’s brows creased in confusion.

“You knew that I was an Omega?”

Jaskier sighed, bringing a hand up to caress Geralt’s face and tuck away some wayward strands of hair.

“My dear Witcher… Of course I knew! I figured it out within the first year of our acquaintanceship.”

“How?” Geralt asked, still fuddled.

“Well” Jaskier drawled, caressing Geralt’s chest and dragging his fingernails across Geralt’s nipples, enjoying the way Geralt’s body flinched at the teasing. “I am very clever and resourceful and a great study of character and…” Geralt rolled his eyes. “And I have seen you naked so I knew you didn’t have a knot, plus I washed your underwear… many times. You leak. Sometimes.”

Geralt seemed absolutely mortified. Jaskier laughed.

“Oh, come on, it’s perfectly normal for Omegas to self-lubricate when aroused…”

“Shut up” Geralt ground out, kissing Jaskier again forcefully. But Jaskier pushed his head back to the pillow gently but firmly.

“No, we need to talk first.” Oh God, but Geralt was making it hard for him to concentrate! “At this point I feel like I shouldn’t take anything for granted, so… Have you been taken before?”

Geralt stared at him with one of his death-glares.

“Yeees.” He ground out.

Jaskier nodded. “Good-good. What about knotted?”

“Yes. With Yennefer, amongst other people.”

“That bitch!” Jaskier all but growled, grabbing Geralt’s shoulders possessively, as if he could be taken away. Geralt had the audacity to smirk. Jaskier sighed. “Well, fair enough, my fault for asking.” He licked his lips. “What about a bond bite? Have you been bonded before?”

Geralt shook his head. Jaskier looked at him meaningfully, conveying that he wouldn’t be happy with that as an answer, so Geralt spoke grudgingly: “No… There was never anyone I knew long enough to even consider that.”

Jaskier shuddered at the admission. The primal Alpha part of him felt immediately excited – this was an unclaimed Omega! His beautiful, desirable mate was unclaimed, unbonded… how could those previous people who knotted Geralt been so foolish as not to stake their claim on him? It was beyond Jaskier…

Jaskier felt overwhelmed by this new information.

“Geralt… I don’t know if I will be able to restrain myself from biting you, if I knot you.. perhaps we shouldn’t…”

“Don’t” Geralt grunted.

“What?” Jaskier asked back.

“Don’t hold back.” Geralt’s stare was earnest as he looked at Jaskier, his voice dropping an octave lower than normal.

“Are you sure?” Jaskier breathed against Geralt’s neck, because… he needed to be sure. A bond-bite was nothing irreversible – it worked very much like marriage: divorce was always an option. Bond-bites could be overridden with another bite, but still… allowing oneself to be branded permanently was not something to be taken lightly.

Geralt looked almost vulnerable, as he looked at Jaskier again. “Yes…”

Jaskier had heard enough. As far as he was concerned – they were done talking. Everything and anything could wait… until later. Much-much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm cruel to end the chapter here, but this one is already way longer than the two previous ones, so I thought might as well post it. I promise, I will update this within a day! :)


	4. The Talk - II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt confronts Jaskier, and tries to apologise to him, to little avail. Geralt finally confesses his feelings towards the bard, which leads to kissing and a negotiation about knotting and bond bites.

Geralt could see the excitement on Jaskier’s face when he mentioned that he had never received a bond bite before. The primal part of the young Alpha was obviously thrilled about the idea of marking him up as “his” Omega – and Geralt was fine with that.

For a long time, Geralt was certain that he never wanted a bond bite, because he had seen what happened to bonded Omegas whose Alphas abandoned them: often, they would go half-mad with grief. Not because of any biological mechanism, but because of what the bond represented; it was a tie that was meant to last. A promise – that was often made but rarely upheld by Alphas. Geralt never wanted to give anyone such power over his life, over his happiness.

But then, years came and went. He saw a lot of ugliness in the world and he learnt that instead of worrying about the future, it was better to live in the present, and to take joy and comfort wherever one could find it.

Even if Jaskier would end up leaving him within a few months – which Geralt was fairly certain he would: the bard was notoriously fickle and eventually, he would surely fall in love with someone else; perhaps another Omega – Geralt wouldn’t mind that.

He wouldn’t make the mistake other Omegas he knew had made; he wouldn’t expect fidelity or a life-long commitment from Jaskier. No, he would just be happy to have his bite, as a reminder that _once_ there was someone who cared about him enough to express their caring in such a way, even if it was just for a momentary sentiment. That was more than what a Witcher deserved, anyway.

“Take me, Alpha!” Geralt all but growled, fully aware that he was pouring oil on fire.

To his surprise, Jaskier didn’t lose his composure, and he continued caressing Geralt’s body with featherlight strokes.

“Oh, I will. I will, but it will be on _my terms_ ” Geralt shuddered at Jaskier’s words, and Jaskier looked at him gleefully. “Oh, you like that? Lovely, what a lovely creature you are. A _perfec_ t Omega…”

Geralt couldn’t help but scoff in annoyance. “You don’t have to sweet-talk to me, I’m already yours…”

Jaskier sighed in exasperation. “Dear Geralt, had it ever occurred to you that perhaps when I “sweet-talk” it’s not because I expect to gain something from it, but because I genuinely mean it?”

Geralt gave Jaskier a meaningful stare. He sputtered. “Well, okay! Not when we are in life-or-death situations, obviously! But other than that… I always say the truth. I have no taste for lies or false flattery. I thought you knew that.” Jaskier looked genuinely rueful as he continued caressing Geralt’s chest.

Geralt felt annoyed, irritated and highly strung… from sexual frustration, mostly, but also because he wasn’t good at talking, and yet… here they were. Still talking. And he had to make an effort, because he didn’t want to hurt Jaskier’s feelings… but he still didn’t know how to express what he felt. _Fuck!_

“Earth to Geralt, are you still here?”

“I don’t like it when you call me perfect… because I’m not.” Geralt said, through gritted teeth.

“Well okaaay?” Jaskier said, cautiously, as if expecting Geralt to pounce on him any minute. “Nobody is perfect, but they can be perfect in the eyes of somebody else.” He said, lifting Geralt’s chin, to look into the Witcher’s eyes. “To me, you are _perfect_ , Geralt. A perfect Omega – loyal, gentle, kind, fiercely protective of those you care about…” Suddenly, his face became full of mischief. “And of course, you have the loveliest arse I’ve ever seen!” Jaskier did his best to grab said bottom, although Geralt appeared less than cooperative, squirming away. “Not to mention your long, silky hair, your soft skin, your long legs…”

“That’s not what an Omega’s supposed to look like!” Geralt grunted.

“You’re still hung up on that?” Jaskier sighed. “Well… remember earlier when you said you’re not my type?”

Geralt nodded. “I’m not.”

Jaskier smiled at him patiently.

“Here’s where you are wrong, because I have more than one ‘type’.” The bard said smoothly, caressing Geralt’s biceps now. “Yes, I _do_ like typical Omega beauties; young girls with bright eyes, big teats and shapely hips. But I also like an Omega who can take care of themselves… Who is strong, who I know could stand up to me if they wanted to.”

Geralt’s eyes widened at the admission, and Jaskier waved his hands in exasperation.

“For fuck’s sake, Geralt! Have you never noticed _how_ I react when you put me in my place?” He looked at the Witcher meaningfully.

Geralt’s face became slightly less tense as comprehension seemed to dawn on him. “Oh…”

“Well?” Jaskier said, smiling impishly.

Geralt still sounded a bit cautious, as he phrased his observation: “You… don’t mind?”

“That’s an understatement, ” Jaskier said gently as he leant in to whisper into the Witcher’s ear. “I find it so incredibly _hot_ …” Geralt couldn’t help but shiver. Jaskier continued: “Sometimes I could hardly keep myself from kissing you when you used your gorgeous body to _overpower me_ , ” The bard emphasised his point by caressing Geralt’s shoulders as he said this, looking at the Omega’s broad, muscled chest in clear admiration. He all but hissed as he continued” _Fuck, Geralt!_ – You can carry me like I weigh _nothing_ , throw me over your back like a sack of potatoes, restrain me with one finger…”

“You don’t – hate it?” Geralt asked, still looking dubious.

“Why would I?” Jaskier asked, clearly befuddled.

Geralt grunted in annoyance, as if the answer should be obvious.

He spoke through gritted teeth. “Because an Omega shouldn’t be stronger than an Alpha...” Geralt wasn’t looking at the bard as he said this, looking at the ceiling instead. “And they shouldn’t disobey an Alpha… and so on.”

Jaskier had a look of pure concern on his face, but he did his best to hide it – not a hard thing to do with Geralt looking anywhere but at him. _Damn stupid Witchers…_

“Geralt, those are very outdated ideas!” He said gently but firmly. “Surely, there had been Alphas you met who were more progressive…?”

Geralt stayed silent. Jaskier couldn’t hold back a soft gasp.

“ _Oh_ , Geralt!” He couldn’t keep himself from hugging his Witcher, _his Omega_ anymore. He hugged him fiercely as he continued cursing under his breath. “ _Figures_ that you would have the worst luck with Alphas! Fucking knotheads, the lot of them… Well not all of us are like that, let me tell you!”

Geralt remained quiet and pensive as if something was bothering him, until he finally spoke:

“Jaskier…” Geralt looked at the bard. “I’m sorry I thought you weren’t an Alpha… It’s just…” He huffed as if talking was taking huge physical effort. “You’re not like any Alpha I’ve ever known…”

Jaskier waited for more of an explanation, but Geralt only shrugged. What else was there to say?

Jaskier laughed, but he caressed Geralt’s neck fondly as he spoke.

“Well, I’m not gonna lie, it did hurt my Alpha pride _a bit_ – that you hadn’t even guessed that I could be an Alpha!” He sighed. “But then again… if your impression of an Alpha is a sexist, macho knothead who only likes small, defenceless Omegas…” He shrugged. “I guess, I prefer being mistaken for a Beta or an Omega, compared to that!” Jaskier gestured with his hands wildly, expressing clear contempt towards “those” Alphas.

Geralt couldn’t help but smile from relief a bit. Then he frowned, because it felt like his heart was about to implode in his chest. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t…. feel so vulnerable around Jaskier. They had only just agreed to sleep together… it shouldn’t _mean_ anything…

But it did. They hadn’t even had sex yet and Geralt had already felt such a strong yearning for the Alpha… who was he kidding? He had been feeling it for _months and months_ now, even while they were apart! There was no way he could stay detached now that Jaskier was here, within arm’s reach: touching him, praising him, looking at him as if he was something… good and… valuable…

It felt… frightening. To feel so deeply about somebody.

But he couldn’t say that.

Instead, Geralt reached for Jaskier’s cock, hoping to distract him… only for his hand to be batted away.

“No, no!” Jaskier said. “It’s my turn first…” He smiled one of his signature mischievous smiles. “And I have a lot of things I want to do… I want you to be screaming and writhing in ecstasy before we’re done…”

“Perhaps you should see to it then?” Geralt said, tauntingly. It worked, as Jaskier gawked and his expression became lust-hazed.

“Oh, careful what you wish for!”

 _Finally_ – Geralt thought, as Jaskier began to divest himself of his clothes and Geralt did the same. Once they were both naked, Jaskier settled on top of him. The Alpha was clearly hard, his member straining hard and proud against the top of Geralt’s thigh… He couldn’t wait to have that cock inside of him, finally… it has been too long since he last got laid, and there hasn’t been an Alpha in his bed since Yennefer… _way, way too long_.

“Fuck!” Geralt panted, as Jaskier began to nuzzle his neck, seeming content to kiss and caress the skin there.

“Hmm, what was that?” The Alpha had the nerve to ask.

“I would really appreciate it if we could get to the fucking, _Jaskier_!” Geralt meant to sound menacing but his voice sounded desperate more than anything, even to his own ears. Fuck, apparently extreme sexual frustration made him talkative…

Jaskier continued kissing his neck ferociously.

“Mmh… but I waited years to be able to do this… I want to do it properly… Make you remember this night, so you never feel the urge to look for another Alpha again” Jaskier spoke in a low, dangerous tone and fuck, if that wasn’t sexy. “Only me, always me… I want to make this the best night you’ve ever had… make you remember me forever. So you can never be satisfied by anyone else again…”

The bard chose that moment to close his palm around Geralt’s straining erection and he cursed. Everything felt too good, too bright and sharp already.

“I’m going to ruin you for everybody else…”

Geralt gasped as Jaskier’s mouth closed around one of his nipples, none too gently. The bard was using his teeth and his lips, keeping the stimulation just between painful and pleasurable… which was exactly right, as it turned out. His other hand was stroking Geralt’s cock leisurely, with full, firm strokes, but at half the pace Geralt was yearning for. He was resolved not to say anything, to save the pride he had left…

But that was shattered when Jaskier bit him on the nipple.

“What the hell?” Geralt cursed.

The bard had the audacity to grin. “You seemed distracted. Thought I’d help.”

Geralt really wanted to tell the bard where to shove it, but he chose that moment to lick at his tortured teat and every sensation seemed to have been intensified a thousand-fold… it felt as good as if Jaskier was licking his cock… and better, because Jaskier was stroking along his inner thigh now, caressing his chest with deft, sure fingers… his hands seemed to be everywhere. Geralt found himself thrusting up against Jaskier, trying to get more friction where he really-really needed it…

And then Jaskier slipped his thigh between Geralt’s thighs, and the pressure against his balls was just verging on the line of too much and not enough… Geralt gritted his teeth. Damn it! He wanted more, he needed more…

“Fuck me, Jaskier!”

Jaskier lifted his mouth from his nipple, but not without giving it a last tug that made Geralt shudder

“Hmm, what was that?”

“Fuck me, knot me!” Geralt said, feeling truly desparate by this point, and he closed his eyes. “ _Please._ ”

Jaskier groaned, echoing how Geralt was feeling, but instead of getting down to business, he all but stopped, lifting himself off from Geralt.

“Gods, I love it when you beg… That deserves a reward – turn around.”

Geralt didn’t have any qualms about doing that; he would have gladly presented to Jaskier at that point, if it would have meant that the Alpha would finally put his cock into him… but it was unlikely to please Jaskier if he disobeyed his order, so Geralt turned onto his stomach, as requested… and waited.

Jaskier was fumbling with something in his bag, and then there were oil-slick fingers touching the globes of Geralt’s arse… but instead of touching him where he needed them most, they were just kneading and massaging his arse and his thighs…

Geralt groaned. “Jaskier, please…”

“Are you not enjoying this?”

And that was hard, because… he was. Jaskier’s massages were always amazing and there was a lot of tension in geralt’s body from riding, so having this tense thighs and buttocks kneaded like dough was… exquisite – torture. Exquisite torture.

“You know that’s not – what I want” Geralt ground out.

“And pray tell, what do you want?” Jaskier asked, voice full of mirth.

Geralt was past the point of caring about his dignity. “Your cock, in me _now_!”

“You sure are bossy!” Jaskier chuckled, but he didn’t stop the massage, running his hands down onto Geralt’s muscular calves now. Geralt moaned because… wow, that really felt good. Damn the bard.

And then Jaskier was sitting astride him, and massaging Geralt’s shoulder and his back and Geralt could feel Jaskier’s erection pressing against his lower back – which made this very different from every previous massage he had every received from the bard. It felt maddening to know that Jaskier wanted this just as much as he wanted it… yet the bard was denying them both the satisfaction.

“ _Please_ , Jaskier…” Geralt could feel the Alpha tremble and stop at his request, although he continued.

“What do you want, Geralt?” He said, voice tight from effort.

His fingers found a particularly tense spot in Geralt’s shoulder in that moment, so all the Witcher could say was: “Fuck… please.”

“God, you are ruining me! You’re killing me!” Jaskier groaned. “I’ve never felt so impatient… I can’t wait to bury myself in you…” His hands were on Geralt’s arse again, kneading and parting the firm globes.

“Yes! Yes, Jaskier, please” Geralt all but pleaded, feeling too far gone as he kept rutting against the mattress, the friction against his cock delicious, but just shy of enough…

Jaskier stopped again and Geralt groaned, but thankfully his hands returned a second later, with more oil slicking them, and this time, his fingers found the spot where Geralt needed them. Geralt gasped as one finger pushed into his core, perfectly, smoothly, meeting little resistance. He could feel that he was slightly wet as well – but it was probably a good thing that Jaskier was using the oil, because Geralt never produced much slick – another side effect of the Witcher gene mutations, probably. Usually, even though it was pleasurable once he got into it, the initial penetration would burn and feel like too much – but there was none of that right now. It felt perfect – and not enough.

He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting back against Jaskier’s finger, while he continued grinding his cock against the mattress. He must have looked a sight… he thought..

But Jaskier was talking again. “Yes! Take your pleasure, show me how you like it… You are doing so well, Geralt… You are making me happy, I love seeing your pleasure… It is good, right?”

Geralt almost had to roll his eyes at the question, but he could hear Jaskier’s sincerity, so he refrained from berating him again. “Yes, it is… but I need more…”

Jaskier smiled, bringing another finger to Geralt’s hole. “Oh, I _have_ more! You only needed to ask!”

Geralt groaned at the penetration, and yes, two fingers was better than one, but…

“Not… that!” Geralt grunted, while continuing to fuck himself on Jaskier’s fingers.

“Oh, pardon me? What did you say?” Jaskier asked, all innocence.

Damn it, the bard was enjoying this way too much.

“ _Jaskier!_ ” Geralt snapped at the bard in a hushed voice, trying not to wake everyone up in the inn.

And Jaskier took his fingers out, which was… horrible. But the bard was turning him and he had his thick, beautiful cock in his hand, the knot already forming.

“How do you want it, Geralt?”

Geralt wanted to scream in frustration – no Alpha had ever asked him what he wanted, what did it matter? But he decided he could have Jaskier’s cock sooner if he went along with Jaskier's nonsense.

“On my hands and knees…”

Jaskier shuddered, closing his eyes. “Yes, yes, do it…!” Geralt took on the position without preamble. “OH, God! You’re going to make me come, Geralt...!”

“In me!” Geralt grunted, not even caring at this point.

Jaskier nodded vehemently. “Yes, of course… only in you… Just allow me… - I need a moment.” And then Jaskier’s fingers were back in him, and his other hand was reaching under Geralt, stroking his neglected cock and Geralt melted, leaning back against Jaskier, like a cat.

As Jaskier continued fucking him on his fingers, he suddenly found the angle that made Geralt moan and grunt. The pressure was perfect, the rhythm was just right, Geralt felt himself relaxing into it…

“Stop!” Geralt heaved. Jaskier complied immediately.

“Why?” The bard asked, uncertainty in his voice. “Is it not good?”

“You will make me come too soon.” Geralt panted. And Jaskier, the bastard, laughed and began to wiggle his fingers again,

“That’s good, because I _want_ to!" Geralt shuddered at Jaskier's admission. "I want to make you come on my fingers… can you? Come for me?”

It didn’t take long after that. Geralt wanted to protest, but it was hard to object or recall why this was a bad idea when there were perfect, slender fingers inside him rubbing firmly against that spot and another talented hand stripping his cock in counterpoint. The pleasure crested unexpectedly, shaking him from the inside out. He collapsed onto his elbows as he came, and Jaskier stroked him through it.

“Mmh, that sounded delicious,” Jaskier murmured, pulling his fingers out gently. Geralt just grunted. With his clean hand, the bard was drawing small circles onto Geralt’s lower back as he leant over him… and he pressed his huge Alpha cock against Geralt’s backside.

“Think you can take me? Or do you need some time?” Jaskier asked gently. Geralt didn’t answer immediately. “It’s okay, we can wait…”

“Yes.” Geralt said simply, lifting his hips, to align them with the Alpha’s cock. He still felt weak and sated from the orgasm, but feeling Jaskier’s cock against his skin was doing wonders to his libido. “In. Me.” He ground out again, pressing against the bard insistently.

Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hips, lined himself up – and pushed. The head of his cock slipped in with minimal resistance, and Geralt’s body clamped down around it once he was inside. “Fuck!!” Jaskier moaned in a strangled voice. “Geralt it’s so good, you’re so good, fuck fuckfuck _fuck_ …” The bard sounded _wrecked._

“Mmmh…” Geralt hummed in agreement. Every sensation was more intense than usual; Jaskier’s cock felt huge, filling him. He could tell the Alpha was not all the way inside yet, but he had stopped to gather himself, which was making Geralt’s blood sing; knowing that _he_ was having that effect on Jaskier… That he was close to his own completion, just because of Geralt…

Geralt decided he couldn’t wait any longer and slowly pushed himself back onto Jaskier’s cock, until his backside was flush with Jaskier’s groin. “Ahhh... Yess, Geralt!” Jaskier moaned unabashedly.

To his surprise, it felt… good – to be in control like this. To move against Jaskier at the pace he wanted. And Jaskier certainly seemed to be enjoying it, encouraging Geralt to move as he wanted… so he did. Geralt was setting a fast pace, taking Jaskier with ease, until…

“Ah! Geralt – that’s my knot!” Jaskier cursed under his breath. “Are you sure…?”

Geralt snarled. “ _Knot me_ , or else…!” He didn’t have to complete his threat, because at Geralt’s request, something had seemed to have snapped in Jaskier. The Alpha leant over Geralt’s body, pushing him down with all of his weight and began to thrust wildly, his knot stretching Geralt’s rim a bit further each time it pushed against him until finally it popped in. Geralt grabbed his cock and wanked himself off with a few sure strokes, as Jaskier shouted into his ear, thrusting a few more times, before he came as well and he _bit_ him.

Geralt almost felt like he had a smaller third orgasm when Jaskier bit down on his shoulder – the bond bite felt like nothing he had ever experienced before. He had expected it to sting and be… weird, because… well, the Witcher had been bitten by many creatures before and it sucked. But this… Jaskier bit him gently, carefully – just barely breaking skin, with a firm even pressure… and Geralt was already on a pleasure high, so the slight sting of the bite felt… good. Deeply erotic and soothing at the same time. And when Jaskier’s own orgasm ended, and he withdrew from the bite… he kept kissing and mouthing at the spot, making Geralt incredibly sensitive – and the Alpha’s knot was inside of him, pressing against his sweet spots deliciously…

Jaskier seemed to have read Geralt’s mind.

“Do you think you could come again... like this?”

Geralt wasn’t sure. He had never tried coming three times within the space of an hour before. But if that was ever a possibility, now seemed to be the moment when it could be – so he nodded.

Jaskier groaned into Geralt’s ear, growling possessively. “Touch yourself! I want to watch you.. writhing on my knot, enjoying it, taking your pleasure from it…”

As soon as Geralt touched his cock, he knew he was close. Jaskier began to thrust inside him… rocking him on his cock, more than anything else – he wasn’t pulling out or pushing it – because god, that would have been painful in their current state – but he was rocking into Geralt, jostling his knot inside of him just slightly… And he kept licking and kissing at the bond bite, as if it was something precious, as if it had made him happy…

“Yes, that’s it” Jaskier murmured against Geralt’s neck. “That’s it, my beautiful Omega, only mine… you are so good to mme… come for me… come on my knot!” He gave another big thrust with his cock and that was all it took. Geralt was fucking himself back on Jaskier’s cock and mewling as he came, again, although barely any semen spurted into his palm this time.. and he had to let his cock go because it became oversensitive…

“Sssh… that’s it…” Jaskier whispered, soothing him, as he helped Geralt lay onto this side. “That’s it… that was incredible… The way you convulsed around my knot… I would have come again if I could… My sweet Omega, my perfect _mate_ …”

Geralt froze at the word.

Jaskier sensed the change in his Omega’s mood and he perked up as well. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Mmmh” Geralt hummed, forcing himself to lie down and close his eyes. He hated being called Jaskier’s ‘mate’… because – well, he couldn’t be. For one, he couldn’t bear him children. He couldn’t offer him his heats… what sort of mate would he be?

“Geralt…” Jaskier crooned softly, as he petted the small hairs along Geralt’s nape. “Talk to me, hmm? Please?”

Geralt sighed. He felt… raw. Maybe it was because he came three times, or because he had received his first bond bite, but… He could have resisted his Alpha’s request – but in this moment, he found, he didn’t want to. He wanted to make Jaskier happy – and the Alpha had asked something from him, so he wanted to reply…

“I don’t know what to say… that won’t offend you.” Geralt said, cautiously.

Jaskier hummed. “Well, just say the truth. As long as you tell me the truth, anything you say will please me. I can guarantee that.”

Jaskier sounded earnest as he spoke, and… Geralt felt too tired to argue.

“I’m not your mate… because I’m not a proper Omega. And… I hate when you say that… because it hurts. I would give anything to be… to be something other than – this!” He said, gesturing at his body. “Not quite an Omega, not quite a Beta… not… anything…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jaskier interjected abruptly. “You are clearly an Omega!”

Geralt snarled. “One who does not have heats!”

Jaskier shrugged. “That’s not totally unheard of.”

Geralt shook his head. “One who can’t bear children.”

Jaskier sighed. “Well – that comes with being a Witcher… it would be the same if you were a Beta, or an Alpha…”

“But I’m not!” Geralt spat. “You don’t understand Jaskier… to be an Omega and to be barren… it… I used to tell myself it was okay. I still do. But…” He tensed up, and to his mortification, he felt tears springing into his eyes. Thankfully, Jaskier was behind him and he couldn’t see them… he balled his hands into fists and tried to even out his breathing to collect himself.

“Oh Geralt…” Jaskier’s voice was soft, and he continued to stroke Geralt’s hair. “I had no idea… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… “ Jaskier sounded dangerously close to tears as well. Which didn’t help Geralt, at all, and he felt a tear well over and slide down on the side on his cheek.

“Geralt… I wish I could help you – but I guess I can’t. But just hear me out, “ Jaskier said in a clear, determined voice. And again, Geralt was grateful that the bard wasn’t trying to sneak a look at his face. He nodded to signal that he was listening, and Jaskier continued. “When I say I want you as my mate, I mean that. But I understand if you need time to consider it… whether you’ll accept my offer.”

Geralt sighed. “Jaskier… If you were my mate… it would be dangerous. Others could exploit you, kidnap you to get to me…”

“It’s common knowledge that we are close, Geralt. I’m sorry to ruin your excuse, but I’m not safe already, as it is. “ Jaskier’s voice hardened and he moved away a bit. “So spare me your concern, and tell me the real reason why you don’t want me as your mate.”

Geralt felt physically ill at Jaskier’s accusing words, and he found himself speechless. How could Jaskier think Geralt didn’t want him?

Jaskier sighed wearily. “Geralt, say something… Please?”

That damned ‘please’ again… Geralt felt compelled to answer his Alpha’s request, so he let the words tumble out of his mouth. “I don’t deserve you.”

Jaskier took a harsh breath. “What? Fuck, Geralt!” And suddenly, Geralt didn’t regret his words at all, because Jaskier’s body was pressing against his back again, and the bard was hugging him, and Geralt grabbed his hand shamelessly, holding onto it for comfort. Jaskier continued to curse softly. “Geralt, I love you, but… there is something wrong in your head.”

Geralt hummed. “You’re not the first one to say that.”

Jaskier laughed. “Huh, aren’t I? Huh…” He hugged Geralt even tighter, placing another kiss on his bondmark. “God you’re insufferable! You really scared me just now, you know? I- I guess we are both insecure idiots, aren’t we? We can’t believe that the other could… want us… Although I’d say that’s more warranted in my case, because you used to deny that you liked me as a _friend_ , even…”

Geralt murmured. “Never said I didn’t like you as a man.”

“But you didn’t instigate anything either!” Jaskier countered.

“I did tonight.”

“Oh shut up!” Jaskier said empathically. “After you almost managed to chase me away! I don’t know why I bother with you…” He scoffed fondly.

“I don’t either…” Geralt’s voice was tight.

“Well I’ll tell you why.” Jaskier said, pulling him closer. “Because you have a big heart.. too big for your own good. I love you – even if you weren’t an Omega. Even if you weren’t a Witcher. I would love you, because… you are you. Geralt.” His voice became quieter as he continued. “So you see, I really don’t understand it when you say that you think I don’t want you because you are not a typical Omega… it just makes me… cringe – to know that somebody once told you that you weren’t good enough, because of that.”

Geralt felt slightly uncomfortable at Jaskier’s speech… even though he knew he should have been grateful. It just sounded… too good to be true. But he knew he better keep that thought to himself, so outwardly, he just gave Jaskier’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

Finally, Jaskier’s knot went down and they separated from each other. Thank goodness, the inn had a washroom, so they were able to order a hot bath and they both took turns bathing – Geralt washing out the soot from his hair, finally – and then went back to Jaskier’s room to sleep on the only bed, as Jaskier insisted that Geralt stay the night.

“I’m not letting you camp outside when we have a perfectly good bed here!” He protested.

Well, perfectly good, except it was barely wide enough for the two of them to lie on it side by side. But at least, Geralt wasn’t the little spoon this time. Within minutes of lying down, they both slipped into a deep slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry for this slow update, but we did it... the story is officially rated 'Explicit'... yey! :D 
> 
> Hopefully I can get another chapter out in a day or two. There will be surprises coming up ;) 
> 
> As always, I love reading your comments, thank you very much! ^^ I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	5. Into the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier leave the inn and encounter an unexpected problem.

Morning came sooner than Geralt wanted it to. He squinted at the bright light that was shining in through the window blinds, drawing lines across the floor.

It was… surprisingly late, he noticed, yet he didn’t feel well-rested. Jaskier was sleeping soundly beside him. As Geralt lifted his head, he noticed that he had a pounding headache – almost like a hangover, if that was possible. _Perhaps it’s from the exhaustion – I set a hard pace on the way here_ – Geralt thought.

He stood up and began to dress himself. The sooner he was by Roach’s side, the sooner he could take a headache remedy – he always stored some in his saddlebag, just in case.

Of course, Jaskier chose that moment to wake up.

“Mmh, Geralt?” He asked, looking up at him blearily. “Good morning. Where are going?”

“I need to get Roach. I was planning to leave a note for you, so you wouldn’t worry.”

“Oh… that’s nice.” Jaskier said, sounding genuinely pleased. Suddenly, he paled. “Oh gosh! I had completely forgotten that you can’t walk freely around here. What if someone recognises you? Maybe I should come with you…”

“No, Jaskier!” Geralt interrupted him, a bit more gruffly than he’d intended. “Thank you, but I’ll take care of it myself. The blacksmith whose care I left Roach in is just a street away. And from there, I can leave the village without crossing the main street. It’ll be fine. I’ll wait for you on the road going North, about a mile from here. You can’t miss me.”

Jaskier sighed but nodded. “You better be there! I’ll come as soon as I can. I can bring some breakfast if you like?”

Geralt smiled. “That’d be great. Thank you Jaskier.”

“Geralt?” Jaskier called him back from the window.

Geralt huffed. “Wha--?” Jaskier had stood up from the bed and drew him into a chaste kiss. Just a peck on the mouth really, but even that was more than Geralt could handle at such an early hour. “Uhh… your morning breath is terrible.” He said without menace.

“Why, yours too, my dear!” Jaskier shot back cheerfully, giving Geralt another brief kiss. “I mean it Geralt. Be careful. I’ll catch up with you as soon as I can.”

Geralt nodded, feeling a strange heaviness settling over him as he made his way out of the window.

Roach was happy to see him, although he mare seemed a bit more restless than usual. Geralt checked her hooves, but they seemed fine, the new horseshoes beautifully attached, so he couldn’t figure out what may have been causing the horse’s unease. “Maybe you have a headache too, hmm?” He hummed at her meaningfully. “A little riding will do you good.”

They sat out without any trouble. About a mile down on the North road, Geralt found a huge oak tree, so he decided that he would rest there, while he was waiting for Jaskier. He felt tired and groggy. He intended to close his eyes only for a short nap…

And he was awakened by Jaskier’s panicked voice. The bard was shaking Geralt’s shoulders forcefully.

“Jaskier, what the fuck? I’m fine!”

“No, you’re not fine!” Jaskier huffed. “Normally, you sleep so lightly and now I could barely wake you! And I touched your forehead and you’re burning up!”

Huh. He had a fever? That would explain things. Come to think of it, he did forget to take the headache remedy… but the headache seemed to be getting better.

Geralt sat up, trying to shake off the tiredness. “It’ll be okay, Jaskier… I’ll take something for the fever – after we've eaten.”

Jaskier still appeared anxious, but he nodded at that. “Okay, here you go. Bacon and eggs and a fresh loaf of bread. I thought you’d appreciate something more substantial than porridge… after last night.”

Geralt felt himself blush at Jaskier's phrasing, but ignored the bard in favour of eating the food presented to him. He felt… voracious. Thank goodness for Jaskier’s foresight. Geralt ended up eating an impressive amount, even by his own standards.

“Thank you, Jaskier." He all but sighed with contentment when he finished his plate. "That was - really good.”

This time it was Jaskier who flushed with delight. “I’m glad you liked it.” The bard scratched the back of his head as he looked around meaningfully. “So – what now? Any plans for where you’d like to go, or…?”

Suddenly, a strong breeze tore through the woods, blowing some leaves through the forest. Geralt leant into the wind happily, enjoying the momentary relief it brought… the fever was definitely not subsiding.

He was jolted out of his blissful state by Jaskier’s irritating voice again. The bard all but shrieked.

“ _Geralt!_ ”

“What?” Geralt snapped at him, opening his eyes. The bard was pointing at him, waving his hands around meaningfully.

“When I was in the inn this morning, I thought I could smell something but… - well I thought it was the innkeeper’s daughter -… But just now – that…!” Jaskier gulped heavily. “I think you’re going into heat, Geralt. You really smell like… Like heat!”

Geralt shook his head.

“That’s impossible. I don’t smell it.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Well that’s not unusual. Most omegas can’t smell the scent of their own heat. Because it’s part of your body’s natural scent… you wouldn’t be able to pick up on it I guess?” Jaskier scratched his chin as mused. “Like how you can’t smell it when you _reek_ of horse-hair, onions and Selkiemore guts -- ”

Geralt snarled. “Thanks for the comparison, Jaskier, I get it!”

The Witcher sighed, trying to muster up all the calm he could. He tried to think of another logical explanation for his symptoms… Annoyingly – he couldn’t. And what’s more, he suddenly realised that he felt _drawn_ to Jaskier: he wanted to be close to the Alpha for no good reason… Other than wanting to make sure that he was here. Add to that the tiredness, the fever – all classic symptoms of pre-heat…

Even if he hated to admit it, it seemed that this time, Jaskier was probably correct.

“Geralt?” Jaskier’s gentle voice brought him out from his thoughts again. “We should try and find an inn. There is still a good few hours – perhaps even days – until your heat will truly start. You don’t feel.. erm… aroused - yet, right?”

Geralt sent Jaskier a murderous glare.

“That’s what I thought” The bard shrugged. “Well, that’s not too bad. We have time…”

“I don’t want to spend my first heat at an inn.” Geralt said abruptly.

“Okay,” Jaskier said cautiously, but with confusion clear in his voice. “So where would you rather spend it? In the middle of the forest, under the stars?”

Geralt huffed. “A cave. Or an abandoned cottage. A cabin in the woods. Somewhere where I won’t have to worry about enemies… finding us. I can place protection charms… make it safe.”

Jaskier nodded. “Oh! Well, that’s… - actually a good idea. Let’s do that then! Quickly, before your heat starts.”

“If it starts...” Geralt said cryptically.

“Yes, _if_ it starts… although, judging by the way you smell to me Geralt, it seems clear that it can’t be anything else.” The bard helped Geralt gather his supplies and he sat back on Roach’s back again, helping Jaskier get up behind him as well.

“Remind me, Geralt,” Jaskier said when they had been riding for an hour or so. “Why on Earth did you think that you can’t have heats?”

Geralt was silent for a while before he answered. “Well… Vesemir thought… he never heard of an Omega Witcher, but he assumed, if a Witcher was an Omega- they wouldn’t have heats, because the biological mechanism for child-making would be missing. Hormones, or something. Witcher’s sex hormones are supposed to be lower than normal – that’s why we can’t impregnate others or be impregnated.”

“Right” Jaskier nodded. “Makes sense. I’m not going to pretend I understood any of that, but… Something just occurred to me!” Jaskier said, with wonder in his voice. “If this is your first heat… - which you say it is - then I’ll be the first Alpha _ever_ to spend a heat with you! I’ll take your heat-maidenhead, your heat-virgnit – Ow- _Geralt!_ ” Jaskier whined as Geralt knocked him over the head with his fist.

“That’s domestic violence! You brute!”

Geralt didn’t grace that with a reply.

\---

They spent the day riding North, trying to get further from Blaviken and other surrounding villages. Geralt was intent on finding somewhere he could make safe – which Jaskier kept saying was because of his “nesting” instinct, but Geralt thought that was bullshit… he just didn’t feel like being attacked when he was at his weakest and most vulnerable. It was logic. Not instinct.

Although, Jaskier was quick to point out that Geralt seemed awfully… picky about choosing a safe space. But that wasn’t about nesting, that was just… He had standards.

Finally, in the evening, just when they were about to set up camp for the night, they stumbled across a clearly abandoned house in the woods.

“Looks like a hunter’s shack” Jaskier said. “Although it seems like the owner hasn’t been around for a while.”

It was an overstatement to call this a “shack”, much less a “house” – it was a little hut, made of wood. One single room inside, with ceiling barely tall enough for Geralt to stand upright in. Two little windows, and the house was built at the bottom of a little hill, so one of the “walls” was actually carved into the ground itself. But there was wooden flooring throughout, and the place wasn’t too damp. There was even a fireplace, some kitchen equipment, and a bed with a straw mattress.

“It’ll do.” Geralt said, trying to hide a smile.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. The Omega was obviously in love with the place… but he wouldn’t say so, of course.

“Okay, so I’ll go gather some firewood. You see to the protection charm thingy – okay?” Jaskier asked, and Geralt nodded.

“Yes, and get some water too. You remember where the little creek was that we crossed?”

“Yes, my lady!” Jaskier ran off before Geralt could knock him on the head again.

Jaskier started by getting the water first, and on the way back, he gathered as much kindling and a fire wood as he could. Unfortunately, both of these things were heavy, so he was utterly exhausted by the time he got back to camp. Half a year of not camping in the wild has definitely taken a toll on his physique.

“Here you go!” he said, putting down the firewood in front of the house. Except… he just noticed that the house looked empty and Geralt was nowhere to be seen. Jaskier felt cold sweat break out on him.

“Geralt? Where are you? Geralt!” He looked around, shouting. That’s when the hut’s door swung open and Geralt appeared in it. “Oh, thank fuck!” Now that the door was open, Jaskier could see that there was a fire already roaring away in the fireplace, and Geralt had set the table for dinner. “How did you do that?”

Geralt lifted a stone he was holding. “Magic. I told you I would do a protection charm. I decided to use a concealment charm as well. I forgot about it until I heard you shouting just now. Erm… sorry.”

 _Wow, he can apologise - there are miracles!_ , Jaskier thought as he came down from his panicked state

“It’s okay… At least we know the enchantment works. The hut looked completely empty when I looked into it from the outside just now. But what if someone opens the door?”

Geralt shook his head. “They can’t. Protection charm. I put your hair and my hair into it – we are the only two people who can cross this line.” Geralt pointed at the half circle stretching around the house. Jaskier wasn’t paying attention earlier, so he never noticed that he had stepped inside the circle, which was paved with what looked like glitter dust. Probably some sort of magical powder.

“Mmmh, I love that you think of everything…” Jaskier said, as he stepped closer to embrace his mate. To his surprise and delight, Geralt didn’t back away, as he usually would have, just stiffened for a second, before relaxing into the embrace. Jaskier caressed Geralt’s nape as he hugged him even tighter. “My beautiful Omega… my perfect mate… you smell amazing… I could get drunk on you…”

Geralt scoffed, but a little smile appeared on his face. “Hmm, perhaps we could get drunk on actual liquor instead of my scent…” Jaskier looked at him in incomprehension, and Geralt smirked. “I may have found some spirits in the cabinet.”

“Bless Melitele!” Jaskier sighed. “Oh, I could use a drink!” Jaskier lifted his arms to stretch them, but then he pulled them back. “Ouch!”

“Are you okay?” Geralt asked, with genuine concern in his voice.

Jaskier smiled. “I’m fine just… I think you’ll have to ride me if you go into heat tomorrow because I won't be able to move. I may have carried a bit more water and fire wood than I should’ve… and I'm paying the price now...”

Geralt crossed his arms. “Why would you do that?”

Jaskier felt foolish, but there was nothing he could do to improve the situation now, so he shrugged. “You know… wanting to provide for my mate, and all?…” Geralt stared at him as if he couldn’t understand what Jaskier was saying. So the bard just kept babbling on in embarrassment. “Well… heats can last many-many days and… this is your first heat and… I wanted to make it as comfortable for you as I could… and so! – So…” He winced as he moved his arm and his arm muscles protested violently again. God, he would be in agony come tomorrow morning. “I’m an idiot…” He finished, looking at the ground miserably.

To his surprise, Geralt walked up to his side, threading his fingers gently through the bard’s hair.

“You did this for me? You wanted to provide for me… For us?”

Jaskier looked up and was surprised to see that Geralt was looking at him with an earnest expression on his face.

“Of course!” The bard said without hesitation. “I want to be a good Alpha for you. I want to make you happy, keep you safe and comfortable… As much as I can. I’m not as strong as you are, Geralt… but – I’m not completely useless either.”

“’Course you’re not,” Geralt murmured, still stroking Jaskier’s hair. “Come on inside. I have some potions that are meant to help muscle fatigue – it should work for humans as well.”

Jaskier groaned. “Oh Gods, that sounds amazing! Thank you, thank you! You are the best mate!” He kissed Geralt soundly on the mouth, before he took his hand - despite Geralt’s protests - and lead him inside _their_ house. For it would be theirs, for the coming few days. And Jaskier was already loving it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day - I'm on a roll, yey!  
> I'm really sorry this is sort of a cliffhanger again... but I will do my best to update the story with another chapter very soon! The next chapter will be Geralt's POV again! ;)


	6. An Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier are preparing for Geralt's heat and tensions run high.

In the morning Jaskier woke up and found that he was alone on the bed. He was calm for a second or so, until he came to his senses, looked around and was alarmed to find that Geralt was not in the house, or inside the protection circle, as far as he could see through the window.

The good news was that Geralt’s kit was there on the ground – so thank goodness, this meant the Witcher hadn’t just _left_ Jaskier – as he was prone to do sometimes.

But then where was he?

Jaskier got dressed quickly, and all but stumbled out of the little hut, bashing his forehead against the decidedly low doorframe – ouch – and looked around.

“Hello Roach!” He called out cheerfully when he spotted the mare. She was standing next to the tree where Geralt had tied her up last night, just outside the house. “Did you sleep well? Why, I slept very well, thank you!” The mare huffed at Jaskier, clearly more interested in what Jaskier was holding in his hand than the conversation. Jaskier offered her the carrot he had saved for her from last night’s dinner. “Here you go… Good girl. Now, where is your master? Hmm?”

Roach didn’t reply of course, but Jaskier could tell that the mare seemed calm. So he knew that wherever Geralt went – he went by choice. And he hadn’t gone far, apparently, because he left Roach. So as hard as it was, Jaskier took some deep breaths and tried to soothe his frayed nerves.

He couldn’t stand to sit around idly, so he decided to make himself useful instead: he gathered more firewood, never venturing too far from the hut. When Geralt was still nowhere to be seen, Jaskier decided to take the plunge and walk to the creek with the waterskins. They barely had any water left, which just wouldn’t do if they were to stay here a few more days. Jaskier took off.

* * *

Geralt woke up and felt fine. Much better than yesterday, by any means. He wondered if the heat had passed – perhaps it had just been a fluke? That wouldn’t be surprising! Perhaps he was doomed to re-live pre-heat over and over – all because of his defective Witcher biology.

Sensing that he was falling into a self-pitying cycle he shook himself and stood up. Vesemir had always taught them that as Witcher their duty was to _serve others_ ; to be useful to society and humans above all. While he didn’t feel up to monster hunting at the moment, he could at least help Jaskier, by gathering some more food for them – berries, plants and perhaps even a rabbit or two.

Jaskier was doing his best to provide for them both – because of some irrational sense of obligation, it seemed – and while it felt nice, it didn’t feel _right_. Geralt never wanted to be a burden; he didn’t want to burden Jaskier with the duty of having to take care of him throughout his heat. It wasn’t fair and it was impossible anyway: Jaskier was only human! Just yesterday, he had overworked himself because he wanted to make sure they had enough of everything. If Jaskier’s mate was human, he wouldn’t have had to bother with all that: they could have been staying at an inn, or even better, they could have had a house of their own. But because Geralt was a Witcher, they couldn’t do that, so Jaskier ended up having to work extra hard, for things that shouldn’t require any effort at all! It was all Geralt’s fault…

 _But Jaskier is choosing to stay with me… He could leave at any time._ – His rational side argued.

 _Well, he won’t, because he is young and foolish!_ – His instinctive side argued. – _But he’ll grow to hate you in time, when he realises that you have nothing to give: no womb, no heart, no riches… All you can offer is the cold hard ground to sleep on and a lifetime of hard work without any merit or reward. A wasted life._

The instinctive voice was louder as always.

By the time he got back to the hut, Geralt was thoroughly exhausted, both mentally and physically. He managed to catch a pair of rabbits and some herbs to go with them.

He was surprised to note that Jaskier was nowhere to be seen, but it was easy to figure out where the bard had gone when he noticed that the waterskins were gone. The bard had poured all their remaining water into a pot.

That gave Geralt an idea: he knew that soup was one of Jaskier’s favourite foods, and he was highly partial towards dense, meaty ones. He set about cooking the rabbits, rendering the fat from the skins first, using that to quickly sear the diced up meat on all sides, before he set about making the base: using lots of wild leeks and some chicory root, in lieu of carrots. Then he poured the water into the base and lastly added the meat and herbs, careful to keep the soup just at a simmer, so the meat wouldn’t toughen up. He rarely took so much care when cooking – preferring to just cook a quick meal rather than a tasty one – but he wasn’t cooking for himself; he reminded himself – he was cooking for Jaskier. Jaskier who worked hard… and deserved a good meal. And if as a result, Geralt would also get a good meal, then that was a happy side effect. Geralt wouldn’t complain.

He had just finished bringing the soup back to a simmer when Jaskier arrived back from the creek. Sweating and swearing profusely.

“Damn, it is hot today! Oh, hello there, Geralt! Where were you --- ? Oh Gods, what is smelling so good in here?!” The bard said as soon as he stepped inside the house.

“Rabbit,” Geralt said, shrugging, pointing at the pot.

Jaskier’s forehead furrowed. “That’s not ‘rabbit’… that’s a _soup_!” Jaskier said almost reverently, looking at the cooking dish with bright eyes. “I never knew you could cook like that! Did you learn that while I was away?”

Geralt replied with a non-committal “hmm”, and thankfully, Jaskier dropped the subject.

The soup needed some more time to cook, so in the meantime, Geralt helped Jaskier empty the waterskins into the various pots they had at their disposal, putting them close to the ground where it was cool, so the water would stay fresh as long as possible.

Before they started their lunch, Geralt beckoned the bard closer. “Jaskier, could you – scent me, please?”

Jaskier looked at him as if he’s grown two heads, so the Witcher sighed exasperatedly.

“Scent me so we can determine whether I’m going into heat, or whether the pre-heat is receding. I can’t tell.”

“Oh! Right.” Jaskier said quickly and leant in to sniff Geralt’s neck and nape, where the scent of an Omega was usually the strongest. He pulled himself back quickly, with a visible flush on his face. “Yes – you – yes.”

“Yes, _what?_ ” Geralt snapped impatiently.

Jaskier huffed in irritation. “What do you think, you moron? Yes means yes! Yes, you are going into heat, clearly! The scent is much stronger today.”

“Fuck…” Geralt muttered, looking away and rubbing his face in between his palms. Jaskier knew that he shouldn’t react to the Witcher’s melodramatics, but he couldn’t help himself – he was sweaty, tired and hungry… and Geralt was being snarky with him for no reason.

“Wow, tell me how awful it is, to be going into heat!” Jaskier drawled sarcastically. “It really must be terrible – after all, you have a safe space, plenty of time to ride out your heat, you have an Alpha at your disposal who would do anything for you…” Geralt was looking at him with a murderous glare, but Jaskier carried on nonetheless. “And you had always envied other Omegas because they could have heats – you said so yourself just two days ago!” Jaskier opened his arms empathically. “Well, _congratulations_ , you are having a heat now! Maybe you could try feeling a little gratitude instead of being bitter all the time- “

“Jaskier – _shut up._ ” Geralt growled in a low dangerous voice. Jaskier bristled at the tone.

“Why should I shut up? Hmm?” Jaskier asked. “What will you do – threaten me with violence again?” Geralt’s eye glinted, as good as an admission. “Very mature, Geralt… Use physical force to silence the annoying bard whenever you don’t want to listen to him anymore. He’ll put up with it. He has no self-respect. Well, _fuck you, Geralt!_ ” Jaskier bellowed. The force of his anger seemed to leave him in a rush as he shouted Geralt’s name.

There was no answer. Of course. Jaskier sighed, trying to catch his breath.

“I’ve had enough.” He felt tears gathering at the edge of his vision, so he turned away from Geralt, heading to the door. “Enough…”

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouted. “Don’t go, have lunch at least…”

Jaskier didn’t look back. “No thanks, I’ve lost my appetite.” He went out the door and kept walking, not looking back.

As soon as Jaskier was out of plain sight, he sat down on the ground and began to cry heaving sobs. He cried for himself, because he was in love with an idiot and a brute. And he cried for Geralt, because he was too emotionally scarred to love or trust anyone – Jaskier used to think that he was an exception, but he could see it now that that was only a foolish illusion he had painted for himself. The reality was that Geralt would always have a chip on his shoulder. He could never believe it that anyone could love him – that Jaskier could love him – so he wouldn’t be able to love Jaskier back because his heart wasn’t in it.

He knew all this, and yet… he found himself giving Geralt a chance again and again. A chance to hurt him – or to love him. But the result was often the former and rarely the latter.

For fuck’s sake, Geralt had cooked soup for him… That was definitely on purpose. The Witcher knew that Jaskier loved soup, but he never bothered to make it for him – until now. Geralt would never say it with as many words, but that was intended as a gift… a token of love, even perhaps. And he had rudely rejected it. Perhaps Geralt would toss the soup now? That would be a horrid waste… Jaskier’s stomach grumbled at the mere thought.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps in the grass. At first he was startled – it couldn’t be Geralt, because Geralt’s steps were deadly silent. Jaskier almost made a move to duck behind a tree in case the intruder turned out to be dangerous, but he was surprised to see that the person approaching was Geralt afterall.

When the Witcher saw that Jaskier had noticed him, he stopped and waited. Jaskier continued staring at him, and Geralt stared right back. Then slowly, he lifted his hands, and made a beckoning motion. As if he was calling Roach. Jaskier couldn’t help but smile. His stomach grumbled again.

The bard stood up, sighing wearily, but he made his way over to Geralt as quickly as he could. When he got there, he hugged Geralt, and the Witcher returned the gesture without hesitation.

“Is there any soup left?” Jaskier asked cautiously.

“Yes. I hadn’t started yet.” Geralt said, matter-of-factly.

Jaskier sighed. “Oh… thank you.” Then he squared his shoulders a bit as he squinted up at the Witcher. “I’m still mad at you, you know?”

Geralt hummed.

Jaskier nodded. “Yeah, but… it can wait. We can talk about this… later.”

“Hmmm.”

* * *

The soup was amazing – and Jaskier didn’t refrain from saying so.

“Gods, Geralt! If I had known you could cook like that… Wow! Compared to this, most soups I get at roadside taverns are just sad, tasteless watery slops… But this! This is so rich and buttery – where did you get butter? - oh, it’s the rabbit fat, right, you said so… Incredible! Absolutely incredible!”

They both ate hefty portions, and then Jaskier, feeling inspired, took their bags and fashioned a makeshift couch out of the bed. He flopped down onto it and motioned towards the empty space next to himself. Geralt sat down beside him.

“Wait,” Jaskier said, standing up and fetching themselves two glasses, filled with vodka – a tall one for Geralt and a smaller one for himself. “Cheers!” He said, handing the Witcher his glass.

Geralt finished the vodka in one go, and then he looked at Jaskier, clearly asking if he could have more.

“No, that’s enough for now, I think,” Jaskier said, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to be plastered if we are going to… talk.”

A look of irritation flitted through Geralt’s face, but he accepted Jaskier’s verdict without protest.

“Geralt?” Jaskier called him by his name in a gentle voice. “Please… I know this isn’t easy, but… can you… try? Explain what happened earlier? Because I really don’t understand you at this point… I try but – I get it wrong sometimes. And I think earlier – I did… And I’m sorry for that.” He sighed. “I said some hurtful things, but I didn’t mean them…”

“It’s fine.” Geralt said.

“What’s fine?” Jaskier asked when Geralt didn’t continue.

Geralt sighed, but he seemed visibly… softer – less tense than usual. It was probably the effect of the vodka and pre-heat combined… he was actually leaning against Jaskier as they were lying on the “couch”, allowing the bard to touch him – to caress his shoulders, his thighs, whatever he could reach.

“It’s fine that you got – angry. I know I’m not an easy person to be around.”

Jaskier scoffed. “Well I’m glad that you are so willing to acknowledge your part of the blame, but if you were listening to me, you should have heard that I said I was in the wrong too, because instead of staying calm and explaining what was bothering me, I just lost it and went off on you. That’s not good. Can we agree on that, Geralt?”

Geralt shrugged. “You were hungry – of course you got angry.” Geralt said this as if he was stating a mathematic equation. Jaskier scowled uncomprehendingly, so Geralt spoke again: “You’re always short-tempered when you hadn’t eaten in a while, I’ve noticed.”

Jaskier all but face-palmed himself. “Okay – so… Very insightful – that observation – and absolutely right, might I add… - but – you still haven’t reacted to the part where I’ve acknowledged that I was an arse to you, and I am trying to apologise here. Can you accept my apology?”

“Jaskier…” Geralt spoke in a quiet, contemplative voice. “If I wanted to apologise to you for every occasion when I ‘went off on you for no reason’ – we would be here till next week…”

“Ah, it wouldn’t take longer than a couple of days, I reckon!” Jaskier said cheerfully, hoping to lighten the mood. Geralt’s frown stayed in place.

“What I can’t fathom is…” The Witcher sighed, looking away, body withdrawing. “You just stated it that shouting at someone and saying nasty things is… not okay. And earlier, you said that threatening physical violence every time one gets angry is – not okay. And so… “Jaskier could feel his heart breaking as he watched Geralt, who was staring at his own palms with a hardened expression on his face. “I can’t understand _why_ you are still with me. You know better. You should leave me – for your own good. I wouldn’t mind.”

Jaskier gave up on trying to lighten the mood – because Geralt wasn’t having any of it, apparently. He sighed and took Geralt’s huge palm, placing it into his own smaller ones. As he spoke, he mapped out Geralt’s hands, discovering every scar and toughened patch on it.

“Geralt, you have had a difficult life. You find it hard to trust others – and I understand why! Because I myself – I trust easily, but I am often disappointed, you see? – I guess you could say I’m naïve – sometimes.” Jaskier smiled. “But I’ve been getting better at selecting the right people to trust. And for all the hurt you’ve caused me I know that you would never let me down. Not when it truly matters.”

“Sounds like you are too trusting, little lark.” Geralt said, sighing softly.

“Maybe so, but you are too mistrustful… White Wolf.” Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hands between his own gently. “Sometimes you have to give others the benefit of the doubt… Or else, you’ll never know what they may be capable of. And I know that you’re a good person, Geralt.”

Geralt finally looked up and Jaskier took the chance to gaze into his eyes. Jaskier stroked Geralt’s face softly, smoothing back the hair that had fallen forward due to the Witcher’s slouching posture.

To Jaskier’s surprise, Geralt sat up a bit straighter, although he continued looking at Jaskier.

“If you are too stubborn to leave then… I’ll try – for your sake. And I promise, Jaskier – I won’t leave you again. The next time we’ll part, if that time comes, “Jaskier tried to interrupt him, but Geralt wouldn’t allow him. “It will be you who’ll initiate. Okay?”

Jaskier smiled. “Okay.”

Geralt nodded, as if in relief. “And I will never hit you again. Or use force against you in anger. You are right – it’s not right. I would never want you to be afraid of me…”

“I wasn’t – “ Jaskier said, interjecting quickly.

“I know” Geralt groaned. “But you should’ve been! I – I – As you said, I am physically stronger than you – I could hurt you, even by accident. And I would regret that for the rest of my life. Never again, I promise.” Jaskier nodded.

“Can I ask – “ The bard said, hesitantly. “Why was I the only one you’d hit? Because I thought about it – and I’m pretty sure – you’ve never hit Yennefer, you’ve never hit Triss, or Mousessack… You never hit any of your friends, only enemies… People you _hate_ … So what am I, then?” Jaskier said with a bitter smile.

“Fuck, Jaskier!” Geralt’s expression turned frantic as he grabbed the bard’s hand. “No – you got it all wrong! I don’t hate you – you’re my closest friend! And more!”

Jaskier’s shock must have been obvious on his face, because Geralt stopped for a second.

“Jaskier…” Geralt said, looking at the bard with a serious expression on his face. “I – You make me feel more strongly than anyone ever has. And that’s a good thing – but a bad thing, because… when I would get angry with you, I would take it out on you… because I knew you could take it. You were never afraid of me – and I abused that. I did what I would do in Kaer Morhen with the other young Witchers.”

“What would you do?” Jaskier said, voice all but a whisper.

“I… we would even out disagreements with violence. Vesemir frowned upon it, and obviously it went against Witcher ethics – so nobody would ever do it in front of him, but…“ Geralt grimaced. “When he wasn’t around? Yeah, we used to beat each other up – all the time! To vent frustrations. To show dominance. To teach each other a lesson. It was easier that way… We were probably better at fighting than talking.”

“But,” Geralt said, taking the bard’s hand again slowly, carefully. “I can say – with certainty – no, I’ve never hit you with the _intent_ to hurt." At Jaskier's confused look, Geralt pressed on: "I hit you… because… I felt close to you… and I saw you as an equal – like a fellow Witcher. So I treated you as such.” Geralt looked up and to his mortification, saw that Jaskier was weeping. “No, please, don’t cry! I’m sorry… I’m not good with words– fuck _fuck_ …”

Jaskier was sobbing by then. “It’s ok – they’re ha-happy tears, see?” The bard said in a shaky voice. “Fuck, Geralt… I never expected you to say half of this stuff! You’ve basically just given me a love confession… allow me to feel a little…. Overwhelmed.”

And then, when Jaskier thought nothing could shock him about the Witcher anymore, Geralt leant in and pulled Jaskier into a half-embrace. Jaskier took it, accepting the offered comfort greedily; crying into Geralt’s chest… And Geralt kept stroking his back slowly. “It’s okay… you’re okay… I’m here… Sssh…”

They stayed like that for what felt like hours – until Jaskier had no more tears to cry. And then they stayed and hugged each other some more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter turned into an emotional roller-coaster! More smut to come in the upcoming chapters - don't worry, it won't stay this gloomy! Gosh, I need to watch some puppy videos on YouTube after writing this one... T_T ... these poor souls...
> 
> As always: comments and kudos are loved and appreciated! <3


	7. Biding the Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier waits for the heat to start.

Geralt thought that surely, his heat would kick in any time now – usually, once Omegas began to emit heat pheromones that was noticeable to the human nose, heat would follow shortly thereafter. He was fully expecting to wake up and be unquestionably in heat.

But nothing happened on the next day. Or the day after that.

The fruitless waiting was driving Geralt mad. Although he didn’t mind the idea of heat, he would have preferred to have it on his own terms: for it to start and end at a convenient time…

“Pffft yeah, fat chance of that happening!” Jaskier said, laughing unabashedly. “That’s not how hormones work! My rut comes on at the worst times possible, usually… I can never predict when it’s going to start exactly – although time and experience does help. You’ll become better at it, in time – if this becomes a regular thing, of course!” Jaskier added hastily.

Something clicked in Geralt’s mind, and he shot Jaskier a calculating glare.

“You say ruts are unpredictable, yet you managed to hide all of them from me in the past – how is that possible, Jaskier?”

The bard looked like a deer caught in a kikimora’s claws. “What?! I didn’t hide --- !” Geralt gave him his best ‘cut the crap’ look, and Jaskier sighed. “All right, all right! Well, what am I supposed to say, Geralt?!” He asked, sounding annoyed. “I hid them because… I _knew_ you were an Omega, okay?”

The Witcher frowned. “What does that have to do --?”

“ _You know_ it does have to do with it! Hell, haven’t you heard the songs about Alphas in rut? Yearning to bone any Omega in their vicinity, making a fool of themselves, begging and _courting_ …” Jaskier looked at Geralt meaningfully, and the Witcher’s brows – finally – lifted in recognition.

Jaskier smiled bitterly. “Yes. I didn’t want to be _that_ desperate around you.” He stood up, turning his back on the Witcher as he wandered away to the far side of the room, under the pretence of fetching more water to fill his cup. When he turned around, he ran his hand through his own hair nervously. “I mean – maybe I was wrong – but at the time – I was pretty sure that you wouldn’t welcome my advances, if I were to proposition you so bluntly and shamelessly in the heat of my rut… and – well!" He laugh self-depricatingly. "There is only so much an Alpha’s ego can take…”

To Jaskier’s surprise, Geralt walked up to him and gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder. (The Witcher was definitely developing a taste for physical expressions of affection.)

“You are... probably right." Geralt said slowly. "Although I think – you may have been surprised if you kept at it. If you would have truly… courted me.” Jaskier looked up in surprise at Geralt’s words and was bewildered to see that there was a slight flush on the other's face and chest.

“You mean you may have said ‘yes’? To me?” Jaskier could have kicked himself for having added the last part – damn, as if he didn’t sound insecure enough already most of the time! Thankfully, Geralt seemed too embarrassed himself to tease him.

“Not… at first. But if you kept trying… I guess I would’ve given in.” Geralt stopped as if deep in thought and smirked. “You can be pretty insistent – I would’ve probably said 'yes' just to save myself the hassle ---” Geralt managed to dodge Jaskier’s elbow as it threatened to connect with his ribs.

“Oh, shut up, you prick!” The bard huffed in indignation. “Yeah-yeah, sure you would have let me fuck you just to “save yourself the trouble” of having to say ‘no’ to me!”

Geralt smiled, savouring Jaskier’s predictable reaction, but then at the first opportune moment, he leant down to silence the bard with a kiss. They had been practising this recently: kissing and touching without the urgency of sex. Jaskier’s lips were very soft and supple, the bard’s skin velvet-smooth, where Geralt’s was rough to the touch – always a bit of stubble left, even if he was clean shaven. But Jaskier didn’t seem to mind: he all but melted against Geralt, pressing his body to the Witcher’s as his hand came up to caress Geralt’s nape, pulling him even closer, more firmly into the kiss.

Geralt decided to try something new, and he brought his hands to Jaskier’s waist gently but firmly. The bard’s eyes widened when he realised what was happening.

“Geralt-what-?”

But then the Witcher was kissing Jaskier again, silencing him. With one smooth movement, Geralt lifted Jaskier and encouraged the bard to wrap his legs around his back, the bard’s hands coming up around Geralt’s neck automatically.

The new position was decidedly _good_ – Geralt could feel all of Jaskier’s body this way: he could touch and caress his firm bottom with his hands and feel Jaskier’s erection pressed against his stomach, and feel the bard’s shudders as he continued to kiss him desperately.

Geralt decided to break the kiss first, looking into Jaskier’s dazed eyes. “Is this okay?”

Jaskier nodded, nuzzling his face into the crook of Geralt’s neck. “Mmmh.”

Geralt chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He brought Jaskier over to the bed and laid him down gently, snuggling up with his bard. Perhaps it was okay to enjoy these days… the days of his pre-heat – he thought. It wasn’t so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet update for today. Heat scenes will follow, I promise! ;)


	8. The Hunter and the Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt puts himself in danger and gets separated from Jaskier.

A few days later Geralt woke up feeling well-rested and fully alert – a rare thing for him, because he wasn’t a morning person usually.

He stretched, enjoying the satisfying pull in his muscles. Although he hadn’t had to fight with monsters in the past weeks, he spent quite a lot of time hunting game in the past days. Mainly rabbits, but yesterday he found a wild boar trail and managed to fell one – a weaker, injured specimen. So they finally had a meal that was more filling than fish and a rabbit here and there. The boar would last them for a good few days to come; after they’ve roasted it on a slow fire, they’ve placed the leftovers into the little “ice pit” Jaskier had carved into the wall of the house that was made up of the hill. The earth there was nice and cool and they didn’t have to worry about wolves or bears getting to the food, since the pit’s opening was inside the hut.

Geralt was looking forward to finally having a few days to rest after all the hard work of the past week – they had fixed up the roof the hut, dug the pit for storing food, and they have gathered an impressive amount of firewood, water and root vegetables between the two of them.

Jaskier wasn’t awake yet, so Geralt decided to take the opportunity to go and wash himself in the nearby creek. There was an area they’d discovered where the water collected into a shallow pool, forming a makeshift lake before continuing its journey south, towards Blaviken.

The place was about ten minutes hike away. Geralt gave Jaskier one last fond look before leaving the house. The bard was sleeping on his side, with his thumb held right next to his chin. He looked very young in his current state, his face completely devoid of any lines as he dozed peacefully. He closed the door carefully behind himself, making sure to make as little noise as possible, lest it wake Jaskier.

As he was walking on the trail, Geralt wondered when he started _watching_ Jaskier? He was learning more about the bard each day. About the way he liked to sleep (on his side, legs nearly pulled up to his chest). About the things that annoyed him (food that wasn’t seasoned enough, sweat dripping down his chin when he was working outside).

They had spent a lot of time together before the argument at the dragon’s den, but Geralt never paid attention to any of this stuff. It just… didn’t seem to matter – then. Now though… he couldn’t get enough of it. The more he observed Jaskier, the more Geralt realised how wrong he was to write the bard off as ‘typical’. Nothing about Jaskier was ‘typical’! He had so many contradicting features, so many inexplicable habits – it may take a lifetime to map all of it out! Or perhaps even longer.

 _But all the time Jaskier has is a human lifetime… A meagre twenty-thirty years. Forty, if he’s lucky._ – Geralt’s subconscious supplied bitterly.

He had arrived to the pool and quickly divested himself of his clothes before stepping into the cold water. Up here in the mountain, far from human villages, the creek was crystal clear. They were close to the source, which also meant that it was as cold as he earth below the mountain, unfortunately. Geralt had brought some soap and lathered it up quickly, giving himself a perfunctory wash. By the time he was covered in suds, he had gotten used to the cold water enough to be able to tolerate it and he submerged himself by lowering himself into the water slowly. It only came up to mid-thigh, but sitting down, it was deep enough to come up to his chest. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his swirling thoughts. Focusing on the frigid temperature of the water, he let himself meditate for a few minutes. After a minute’s hesitation, he even decided to wash his hair – he couldn’t remember the last time he did that, it must have smelled awful, although Jaskier would never say so.

Led by a whim, he decided to give himself time to dry in the sun before putting his clothes back on. He laid down as he was, naked, in the lush green grass that grew on the creekbank.

He must have dozed off a bit because the next time he came to, it was because of voices – human voices – echoing in the forest.

“Fuck,” Geralt mumbled as he got his bearings. Judging by the sun’s position, he must have stayed for almost an hour; his hair was mostly dry by now and midday was fast approaching. He got dressed and began the walk back to the hut.

However, he had to stop soon because two man came by, riding on horsebacks. Geralt avoided them easily, hiding behind a large tree-trunk and listened.

“The smell is definitely getting stronger.” One of the man said. “And the dogs are restless. The Omega must be nearby.”

Geralt felt himself freeze as soon as the words left the man’s mouth. They had dogs on them – _damn!_ It may prove trickier to get back to the hut than he thought it would be, if they were looking for him – for the Omega in heat.

The other man nodded. “Yes, she must be alone. The scent is pure and unclaimed. What a great catch that would be! That would fetch us far more coin than a few measly boars.”

They seemed like bandits, based on their getup. Since Omegas were rare, many nobleman would pay a high price for an unmated Omega to take them as their mate, so kidnappings were still commonplace. These bandits seemed to be under the impression that they had come across an unmated Omega girl. Geralt had to scoff at the assumption. Few girls would have been stupid enough to spend their heat alone in a forest. Granted, that had been a bit careless, even for Geralt – he should have just given himself a quick sponge bath in the house, but he had been itching to stretch his limbs. He was paying the price now.

With no potions on him, there was little Geralt could do to conceal his scent, so he focused on getting back to the hut without letting the dogs scent him; he had to avoid going in the direction of the wind. Based on the sounds, the rest of the bandits and their dogs were close to the little clearing near the hut. So instead of going back the way he came here, Geralt would need to hike further up the mountain and descend on the other side, making quite a large detour. Hopefully, the dogs would lose his trail by then, or even if they didn’t, Geralt would have a considerable headstart on them. But it would take at least an hour to get back to Jaskier that way.

 _If the stupid bard stays put. But what if he doesn’t? –_ Geralt tried to ignore the concerning thought. If Jaskier went to look for him – he would surely bump into the bandits and Geralt wouldn’t be around to protect him.

But if he ran back now to make sure Jaskier was okay, Geralt would risk exposing their hiding lace to the bandits, and he would have to slaughter them all, because they would be unlikely to leave them in peace once they’ve found their hiding place.

 _Fuck. There is nothing to it_ – Geralt thought. The only logical solution was to lose his pursuers and sneak back to the hut unnoticed. He hoped and prayed that Jaskier would have faith in his abilities and that the damn bard wouldn’t do anything rash or foolish.

* * *

By the time Geralt got back to the hut, he was sweating profusely again, so the effects of his refreshing bath were all but gone. The sun was high in the sky, it was just past midday, nowhere a cloud to be seen. Geralt had gone back to the creek, and walked in the water for a while to conceal his track. He bathed again before he stepped out and began the long way back to their camp, setting a gruelling pace. The dogs would surely follow his track to the creek pool, but they would lose it after that if they were lucky. If not – well he would be back inside the hut by then, and they wouldn’t be able to enter the protection circle around the hut.

Geralt felt sweet relief flood him when he got back to the clearing in front of their temporary home and noted that the scent of the dogs seemed long gone. They haven’t been around for the past hour or so. Perhaps they’d given up on the chase.

He stepped inside the circle and opened the creaky door carefully, only to be hit in the chest by an armful of Jaskier.

“Geralt! Sweet Melitele, are you okay? Geralt, Geralt… Gods, you smell incredible… let me look at you…” Jaskier was rubbing his shoulders up and down and holding the Witcher with an iron grip, as if he was afraid that Geralt would be gone again.

Geralt stayed quiet and just allowed the Alpha to examine him, waiting patiently. Finally, Jaskier seemed satisfied and he backed away, still panting heavily as if he was the one who just completed a 5 mile hike, not the Omega.

“Geralt, do you have _any idea_ how worried I was?!! How hard it was to--! To--!!” The bard was waving at the window and his voice broke. Geralt felt a wave of guilt roll over him.

“I know. I’m so sorry…” He said in a soft voice.

Jaskier nodded, chewing his lip. “Well you better be!” He gave Geralt a hard look. “Do you have any idea how close I came to going after you, hunters be damned? When I saw them from the window… when I heard them talk… They said horrible things, Geralt… Horrible, horrible things about what they’d do to you…”

Geralt snorted. “As if I’d have let them. They’d have been dead before they laid a hand on me.”

Jaskier’s expression became stormy. “Well, pardon me for worrying about you, an Omega in heat!!” He shouted. “How was I supposed to know that you were in any shape to fight? You could have been knocked out with a fever or delirious… heat can have side-effects!”

Geralt swallowed, feeling a heaviness settle over his chest. “I --- I didn’t think about that.”

Jaskier seemed to calm down as he heard the remorse in the other’s voice. “Of course you didn’t… but just – imagine it was the other way around, Geralt. If I was the Omega out there, on my own, and a bunch of bandits came by. Would you have been able to stay put and wait? Even if you knew I should be able to defend myself? Answer that!” Jaskier said in a hard voice.

Geralt felt horrible, as the full weight of the situation dawned on him.

He spoke in a low, cautious tone. “I – I don’t know if I could’ve. I would have wanted to kill them. I would have ripped them to pieces if they so much as touched you.”

Jaskier shuddered at Geralt’s words, spoken with murderous intent.

“Yeah, I felt like that too. But… I managed to stay put. I hoped you were okay, and I knew you would take care of them. That you could kill them if you wanted to.” Jaskier stopped abruptly, becoming agitated again, and he began to pace up and down in the house. “But let me tell you, it was _hard!_ When all of my instincts were screaming at me to go outside and kill them, murder them for threatening to take you from me! It was _so_ hard… “

The bard seemed to have run out of steam and he collapsed into one of the dining chairs. Geralt went up to him, sitting down next to him carefully.

“I was worried too. The whole thing was my fault, “ He said and Jaskier seemed to calm down visibly at the admission. “And I was afraid you may end up injured… or worse, if you faced the bandits on your own.” Geralt said, voice tight with tension.

“What exactly happened anyway?” Jaskier asked, looking up at him.

The Witcher sighed. “I went to take a bath in the creek. I decided to give myself time to dry in the sun and I fell asleep. Heat hormones made me doze off I guess. When I woke, the bandits were nearby, so I had two options: either come back but be discovered, in which case I would have had to kill all of them – it would have been messy and may have drawn unwanted attention. The second option was to lose them and come back the long way ‘round; hiking up the mountain and down the other side. So that’s what I did.”

Geralt stayed quiet after he’d finished his half of the story. He waited for Jaskier to go off on him again – Gods knew, he deserved it for having caused so much trouble to the Alpha.

But Jaskier just smiled and nodded.

“Oh. Well… I can’t say I’m pleased that you put yourself in danger by accident, but the second part was clever. I’m glad you didn’t kill them. Would have been a hassle to dig graves for them all anyway…” The bard snorted. Geralt could hardly believe his ears that Jaskier was laughing at something so – sinister! But then he laughed right along, all the tension flowing out of him in an instant.

Jaskier touched Geralt’s shoulder as he leant against him and then tore his hand away abruptly. “Oh yuck! You’re bathed in sweat!”

Geralt shook his head mirthfully. “Well, it was a long hike down the mountain. I should’ve just killed the lot. Would’ve generated less sweat.”

Jaskier elbowed him into his side, but Geralt didn’t even mind, he was just glad to see his Alpha healthy and happy, smiling and leaning against him. And then suddenly, Geralt was hit by a wall of scent – and Gods, it was Jaskier’s scent, but amplified to the extreme! The bard smelled like aged oak whiskey, with hints of vanilla and leather. Geralt felt himself grow hard in his breeches.

“Jaskier,” He said in a gravelly tone. “I think my heat has… really started.” He said slowly, meaningfully, and Jaskier gave him a surprised face, lips parting in a little ‘o’, as he followed Geralt’s gaze down to his crotch. The bard swallowed, tightening his hand around Geralt shoulder suddenly.

“May I – take you to bed, Omega?” He asked, voice almost reverent, full of respect and longing, as he looked up at Geralt through heavy lidded eyes.

Geralt’s mouth went dry at the obvious proof of the Alpha’s desire for _him_. Gods, Jaskier wasn’t faking! This couldn’t be faked! The man seemed like he genuinely wanted – begged - to be allowed to be Geralt’s companion, to support him through his heat. Still asking permission, even at this point, when he had done so much for Geralt; had helped him create a safe space (he refused to call it a ‘nest’), had worked hard for him, helped him endure the symptoms of his pre-heat…

But all that mattered right now was that the bard clearly _wanted_ Geralt – without question. So it was easy to answer.

“Yes, Alpha.” He said, taking Jaskier’s hand and pulling him along to the straw mattress. As they laid down, the scent of hay filled the air, the dried straw crunching and snapping under their combined weights. Geralt had no idea how that’d happened, but he found himself under Jaskier’s body – the Alpha was over him, pinning him down possessively and it was glorious. He felt dominated, loved, cared for.

“Gods, you smell incredible!” Jaskier sighed as he nosed along Geralt’s throat. “Have I said that already? Scratch that, I don’t care! I’ll say that as many times as I please!”

Geralt snorted.

“Quit laughing at me and help me take these clothes off you!” Jaskier huffed impatiently, grabbing Geralt’s boots, and helping him take off the unnecessary footwear, along with his breeches, his underpants and his shirt. Jaskier did the same, undressing himself in tandem with Geralt, eyeing the Witcher with hungry looks that were almost enough to make Geralt blush. Being with Jaskier, it was easy to forget that it was only him who was in heat. Jaskier seemed so eager, so obviously pleased to be seeing Geralt and touching him – it felt like the Alpha was right along with him in the desperation of his heat.

“Take me, Jaskier, please…” Geralt murmured softly, looking up at the bard.

Jaskier scrunched his eyes shut as if the mere idea was too much for him. Unlike during their first coupling, there was no hesitation in him now as he nodded.

“Yes, I will – I will! Just let me make sure…”

He reached down with one sure hand, gripping Geralt’s cock gently. Geralt grunted and thrust into Jaskier’s fist, seeking more friction, more touching, more --- more!

But Jaskier’s hand moved away, trailing down his aching balls, and straight down to Geralt’s hole. The bard’s fingers circled the opening gently, before – after a second of hesitation - he slipped a finger inside and – Geralt saw white. He had had no idea that that was what he needed, but Jaskier’s finger in him felt _divine_ and he never wanted it to stop.

He was startled into awareness when Jaskier groaned.

“Oh, Gods, Geralt! You are so wet! So-so wet, so ready for me, my gorgeous mate, my beautiful Omega! Do you want my cock? Do you want my thick Alpha cock in your tight cunt?”

Geralt felt himself flush at Jaskier’s crude words, but if anything, the obscenities fuelled his desire and he arched into Jaskier’s touch, penetrating himself even more deeply on Jaskier’s finger, just as Jaskier’s other hand closed around his cock.

Geralt felt like he was burning up. Even the way Jaskier’s thighs rubbed against his own was glorious: every touch was languid and smooth, sparking pleasure in its wake. The bard never stopped kissing Geralt’s neck, which was making it seriously hard to concentrate or say anything… But when Jaskier pushed another finger into him next to the first one, he'd had enough.

His words came out like panting grunts, dangerous and low even to his own ears.

“Yes, Jaskier – _fuck me_ , “ He punctuated the request by thrusting down on the fingers inside him. But it wasn’t enough, Jaskier still wasn't moving... so he growled this time. “Knot me, make me _yours!_ ”

Finally, his words seemed to have done the trick because in an instant, Jaskier’s fingers were gone and his cock was pressing against his rim. Geralt didn’t even have time to prepare himself before the Alpha was thrusting into him and it felt perfect – too much, but just right and he welcomed the slight burn and the initial shock of the penetration, grabbing onto Jaskier and pulling his chest flat on top of his own body.

“Gods, Geralt! I’m sorry – couldn’t – wait, “ The Alpha panted, gritting his teeth. “You’re incredible…. You are everything I’ve ever wanted… So good, so amazing… Gorgeous… my Omega, only mine…”

Geralt felt a shiver of pleasure run through him at the Alpha’s words of praise, and at the feeling of his cock. The angle was perfect, the head of Jaskier’s cock rubbing over that spot deep inside him that brought him the most pleasure over and over again. Normally, he would have grabbed his cock to wank himself off, but with the way Jaskier’s body was pressed against him, Geralt’s cock was getting a lot of friction from Jaskier’s pubic hair and his abs, so instead, Geralt used his hands to grab Jaskier’s arse, pulling him even deeper.

Jaskier keened. “Fuck yes, yes _Geralt!!!_ ” His name sounded like a plea, a prayer in the bard’s mouth and it spurred him on even more, so he began to dictate the bard’s thrusts in earnest, setting a rhythm felt perfect and -- too much and --- not enough…!

Jaskier was panting, breath stolen by apparent pleasure. “I’m gonna knot you, Geralt! Never--“ He grunted, screwing his eyes shut. “Never gonna leave you… Gonna pump you full of my seed so _everyone_ will know you are _mine_!” Jaskier gave one, two, three more frantic shoves and then, suddenly, his knot popped through the tight ring of Geralt’s fucked out hole, and Geralt shouted as he came around it. He felt it, more than knew it that Jaskier had peaked as well, the bard collapsing on top of him.

They stayed like that for a long while, Jaskier laying on Geralt’s chest, until Geralt’s thighs began to cramp and they turned to lay on their sides instead, still facing each other, Jaskier’s knot stuck in Geralt.

“Geralt… oh, oh, Gods… I don’t know have many more rounds I can take of this…! And your heat has just started… I’m honestly scared that I’m going to have a heart attack. But what a way that’d be to go! Sweet Melitele!” Jaskier huffed.

“Shut up, bard.” Geralt said, without any heat. He couldn’t keep from smiling as he continued to bask in the afterglow, feeling well-fucked and sated for the first time in over a week.

Jaskier giggled – for there was no other word for the sound that left the bard’s mouth.

“Oh, I didn’t hear you complaining when I was telling you all those dirty things earlier! I think you have a penchant for dirty talk. Or maybe just for my lovely voice. Could be either –”

And Geralt did the smartest thing possible - he shut the bard up with a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the heat has begun! More chapters to come shortly! :) Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos as usual, they are always appreciated.  
> Let me know if you have any requests or ideas for scenes you'd like to see with these two ;) Inspiration is always welcome


	9. In Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt's heat continues.

To Geralt’s surprise, he was actually able to catch some sleep after their first round.

Although that probably had less to do with the effects of heat and more to do with the fact that he was _exhausted_ from all the hiking he had to do to avoid the bandits… (He made a mental note to put more aerobic exercise into his routine, because apparently, his physique wasn’t what it once was.)

When he came to, he was lying next to Jaskier who was still soundly asleep. He could have woken the bard, but he felt no urgency to do so – the urgency of heat wasn’t returning quite yet. So instead he stayed as he was on his side, and he continued watching Jaskier’s face, peaceful in his sleep.

Geralt hated to admit it even to himself, but as of late, he caught himself thinking more and more often of Jaskier’s offer; of taking Geralt as his _mate_.

Mating was a fancy word for… being in a committed relationship. Strictly speaking, it was only possible between a willing Alpha and a willing Omega, and it required a bond-bite.

Mating implied exclusivity. Infidelity between mated partners was rare and it was generally regarded to be in ill taste. Even Jaskier who was famed for his escapades with married and betrothed women had never had a dalliance with a mated Omega to Geralt’s knowledge. _Or taken a mate of his own._

Geralt frowned. How had this never occurred to him before? Perhaps Jaskier had had a mate in the past? The bard was young but not _that_ young by human standards – it would be reasonable to assume that he may have had a committed relationship before – or perhaps even during? – their long acquaintanceship.

Geralt was startled out of his thoughts when said bard moved suddenly, opening his eyes with slow blinks and stretching his arms out over his head.

“Aaah! Good morning! Is it morning?” He said between yawns. He looked towards the window, where the setting sun’s last rays were producing a beautiful rosy-purple effect.

“No, it’s evening, “ Geralt said gently. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually!”

They both ate with gusto, polishing off a good chunk of the salted boar meat with some roast vegetables and herbs. Towards the end of the meal, Geralt could feel his desire returning, cock twitching to life as he watched Jaskier suck his fingers clean of the boar’s juices. The bard was oblivious of the effect he was having on Geralt, thank goodness, although that didn’t make the situation any easier for the Omega.

As soon as Jaskier had finished his plate, Geralt coughed and gestured towards the bed meaningfully.

Jaskier’s face lit up. “Ah! How rude of me, of course!” He said hastily, as he stood up, getting to the bed quicker than Geralt did. He hopped onto his side, propping his head up on one elbow as he looked up at Geralt mischievously. “How do you want me?”

The bard’s smile sagged a little bit when he saw Geralt, who was still standing a few paces away.

“Are you okay?” The bard asked gently. “Come here,” He patted the place next to him on the bed. “Come here, my darling…”

Pathetic as he found it, Geralt could feel a warmness spreading in his chest in the wake of the affectionate words. He sighed and steeled himself, crossing the distance to the bed and lying down next to Jaskier, but making no move to undress himself – yet. Thankfully, the bard didn’t initiate that either, seeming content to wrap his arms around Geralt as they were lying there.

“What’s wrong, huh?” Jaskier asked again.

“You didn’t – bite me,” Geralt finally said, cringing as he did. Gods, there was no way not to sound _needy_ saying those words!

Jaskier stared at him in incomprehension. “What do you mean? You mean the bond-bite?”

Geralt nodded.

Jaskier’s face lit up in understanding. “Oh, you mean I didn’t bite you when we had sex earlier today?”

Geralt nodded again. “Yes. Why?” Although his words were clipped and short, there was a noticeable tension in the Witcher’s body as he said them, as if he was afraid of Jaskier’s reply.

“Sweetling…” Jaskier said gently, and he lifted Geralt’s chin, so the Omega was prompted to look at him. “I – I didn’t bite you because – frankly, because I forgot!” He continued hastily, sensing Geralt’s continued tension. “You see, here in this home, which smells only of the two of us, I feel quite secure about our bond. So I didn’t feel the need to stake my claim again… Plus I didn’t want to cause you any additional discomfort, because you are already in heat as well - I thought you wouldn’t want a tender bite to boot…” Jaskier stopped in his speech and his brows furrowed. “Why? Would you have _liked_ me to--?”

Geralt’s treacherous body betrayed him, before he could even make up his mind about whether he wanted to admit what he was feeling. His eyes clenched shut and he shuddered from desire, nodding fervently. “Yes… “ His voice sounded even raspier than usual so he repeated his reply, in case Jaskier didn’t catch that. “Yes.”

Jaskier smile was almost glowing. “ _Oh!_ Does it make you happy when I give you a bond bite? Does it make you feel wanted? Feeling in such a physical way how much I want _you?_ ” The bard’s voice became lower and rougher with each word spoken, his scent turning darker, more heady – spices and molasses and oak. Geralt felt almost dazed from it, but instead of moving away, he leant into the Alpha’s neck to inhale his musk even more deeply. To his surprise, in that moment, he felt Jaskier grab a fistful of his hair, pulling it gently and consistently; forcing Geralt to bare his neck to him, to expose it to the Alpha’s mercy.

Geralt felt his cock go from erect to rock-hard in a split second, and he couldn’t hold back his body’s needs any longer, so he began to grind himself against Jaskier’s thigh through the materials of their breeches.

Well, he would’ve, but Jaskier stopped him, forcing him to slow down by yanking on his hair gently.

“Fuck, you can’t say things _like this_ to me, Geralt!” Jaskier said in a low, throaty voice. “And then hump me like that! -- You have _no idea_ what it does to me – to know that you _want me!_ You want me as your Alpha…?”

Although the bard probably meant his words to sound like a statement, there was a slight wobble in his tone that turned his last words into a question, and Geralt _bristled_.

He felt frustrated, for not being able to convey it to his Alpha _how much_ he wanted him, _how much_ he _needed_ him, when -- Jaskier should have known that! He really should have… But at the very least – Geralt could tell him now.

“Yes, I do, Jaskier.” The Omega said, voice sure for once. “I want you… as my Alpha. If you’ll take me… “And the insecurity was back, directed towards himself, but by then, Jaskier was cradling his face between his palms and looking at him as if he was something to be valued… something to be treasured…

“Gods, _yes_ , Geralt! I want you too!” Jaskier laughed.

The bard hesitated for a split second, then seemed to have made his mind up about something, leaning back so Geralt could see his face properly.

“The midst of one’s heat is generally not regarded as the best time for such important conversations,” Jaskier said, looking away, before he carried on. “But please believe me that I mean every word – it is not your heat that’s making me say these things… - “

And then Jaskier was looking at him, gaze full of sincerity and intent. Geralt felt his heart beating in his throat, and he felt an overwhelming urge to look away, but he forced himself to return the bard’s gaze, because his senses were _screaming_ at him to do so…

Jaskier gave him a slight smile, and Geralt felt himself relax a little bit.

“Geralt of Rivia, “ Jaskier spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “I would be honoured to take you as my mate. My one and only, my bonded mate and Omega.” He took a deep breath as he continued. “From now on until you decide you’ve had enough of me…”

Geralt couldn’t help but snort at that. “Yeah, more like until you tire of me…”

Jaskier smiled. “Well, either way!” The bard took a deep breath and looked into Geralt’s eyes again. “From now on, until then – will you do me the honour? Of being my bonded _‘mate’?_ ” Jaskier’s voice became tender as he uttered the question, and he gave Geralt’s hand a slight squeeze – which surprised him, because he had completely forgotten that Jaskier was holding his hand in his hands…

Nothing could have prepared Geralt for this moment. Even if he would have had _all the time_ in the world to think about formulating a reply – which he definitely didn’t have, his cock was about to burst and he needed to be fucked and knotted in that order preferably, immediately – he still wouldn’t have been sure about what the _best_ reply would be.

So he went with the easy one instead.

He looked into Jaskier’s eyes and nodded. “Yes, I will.” He said, kissing Jaskier soundly on the mouth. Thankfully, Jaskier didn’t fight him, allowing Geralt to kiss him hard and deep, the Alpha’s hands coming up to smooth over Geralt’s chest; half-exposed now as his shirt had been rucked up by his early movements.

Jaskier was the first one to break their kiss. “Gods, Geralt, we are wearing too many clothes!”

Geralt could have kissed the bard for saying that, but instead he nodded in clear agreement, wasting no time in undressing himself. He watched as Jaskier did the same, the Alpha’s erect cock standing tall and proud once his breeches came off. Geralt reached for it without hesitation and leant down to taste the bead of moisture at the tip. It was – nice. Well, as nice as a man’s fluids could taste. It wasn’t bitter, just slightly salty and tart, but what made it better was that it tasted uniquely like Jaskier. On a whim, Geralt decided and took the entire length of Jaskier’s cock into his mouth, enjoying the way he could fit almost all of it in by relaxing his throat in a practiced way.

“Oh, fuck, Geralt!” Jaskier cursed, grabbing Geralt’s head as if for support, and he went completely still.

Geralt became bolder and each time he moved his tongue or pulled off, only to sink down his mouth around Jaskier’s prick again, the bard kept clutching at him, murmuring words of praise and appreciation.

Usually, Geralt disliked doing this; pleasuring an Alpha so one-sidedly. Perhaps because some Alphas seemed to take it for granted. But not Jaskier – he seemed content to let Geralt be in control the tempo and depth.

It was a heady feeling, feeling the weight and fullness of Jaskier’s big, erect Alpha cock on his tongue, in his mouth – stretching his jaw so that it was _just_ on the right side of ‘uncomfortable’, but not unpleasant.

If it wasn’t for the heat, Geralt thought he may have been content to stay like this for all eternity…

But as it was, he needed more.

He gave one last firm suck to the Alpha’s cock before the released it from his mouth, letting go of it gently. Jaskier always seemed to appreciate Geralt’s arse and his back, so he got onto his hands and knees (as he had during their first coupling), giving the bard a good view, before he looked back at him over his shoulder. 

“Fuck me.” Geralt said – well! Ordered, more than anything.

The bard seemed frozen for a second, letting out a strangled half-sound. “Ye-Yes! Yes! In a moment, “ He said petting him on the back, and to Geralt’s shock, he stood up from the bed.

Geralt gave a frustrated grunt. “ _What_ _on earth_ are you…?”

But instead of replying, Jaskier just grabbed Geralt’s hips and pulled them closer to himself; guiding him to shuffle closer to the edge of the bed. Geralt obliged, although grudgingly. It became clear that the bard intended to fuck him standing at the edge of the bed, and he was helping Geralt position himself for that.

Which was all fine and good, but Geralt was going to _kill the bard_ if he didn’t get inside of him _right in this_ \---

But then finally, blessedly, he felt the prodding of Jaskier’s cock at his hole. The position meant that Geralt was a bit too high, so he widened his stance and lowered himself onto his elbows, and then suddenly Jaskier’s cock was slipping into him, into his hole, with the barest resistance. Geralt savoured the slight burn as the Alpha’s cock slid into him, and then slid back out, only to glide back more easily the second time around, coated in his slick.

And then Jaskier started to thrust into him in earnest, and Geralt had to brace himself on the bed. _Sweet Melitele’s tits!_

Geralt couldn’t hold back a groan when Jaskier filled him to the brim with one particularly deep stroke. The bard was tilting his hips, trying to find the right angle… and it didn’t take long until he did. And then he just kept going, setting an almost brutal pace. Geralt actually found himself having to brace himself on the bed, to provide resistance, lest the bard’s powerful thrusts pushed him further up the bed!

And even worse, the angle was devastatingly _perfect!_ Each push of Jaskier’s cock into him felt like ecstasy, each pulling out a slight disappointment, only for the pleasure to reappear a split second later.

It was _maddening_ – it was perfect -- Geralt never wanted it to stop.

And then suddenly, the bastard stopped.

“What the fuck Jaskier?!””

“Oh, so you were enjoying that?” The bard said, mirth apparent in his voice. “Mhh, mmh… I am working hard for you here, so I want to hear you…! I want to know if you are enjoying it! So don’t hold back the sounds or I’ll stop again, okay?”

“Fuck you – mmhhm!” Geralt was ready to smack the bard, but Jaskier interrupted him by thrusting into him again, nailing the same spot over and over.

Geralt tried, he really did, but it was hard to let himself be loud. Being loud was never allow – not in Kaer Morhen in the dormitory rooms, not at inns with paper-thin walls…

But then one of Jaskier’s hands reached down and began to fondle his balls and touched his rim where Jaskier was fucking him and suddenly, Geralt didn’t have to pretend, because he found himself groaning and grunting in pleasure.

“That’s it! That’s it, Geralt!” Jaskier muttered, voice strained. “Fuck, I _love_ the sounds you make! So amazing – ah!” The bard moaned as Geralt began to rut back against him, impaling himself even further on Jaskier’s cock and his swelling knot. (Mostly to shut the bard up…)

Geralt gritted his teeth. It was all too perfect – the angle was right, Jaskier was fucking him with powerful thrusts that made Geralt’s back arch and his toes curl, he felt his orgasm building, but Jaskier’s hand was back on his hips now, and there was no direct stimulation on his cock. He may have been able to come like this, but it would take a long time, probably…

As if sensing his thoughts, Jaskier chose that moment to slow the pace down, urging Geralt to lower his hips even more… It was slightly uncomfortable, because he wasn’t _that_ flexible – but his cock brushed against the bedsheets then and Geralt hissed in pleasure.

“Gods, Geralt, you should see yourself! ” Jaskier said, voice ragged in between thrusts. “Fuck! It’s breath-taking, the way you look… so beautiful, your perfect round arse and the muscles in your back!” The bard swore. “Gods, and the way you feel! I love the way you feel around me, all hot and tight, I’d think I was fucking a virgin, but it’s ten times better…”

“Shut – up!” Geralt grunted, and his face screwed up as he was nearing his pleasure, feeling it building in his stomach and his back, and his legs, his whole body coiling…

Jaskier slowed his rhythm again, just a notch this time, and he leant over Geralt’s back gently.

“I will bite you when you come, “ The bard said in a deep voice, which sounded like a threat, and Geralt could feel a shudder of pleasure run through him. “I will bite you now, and then later when I fuck you, I will bite you again, over and over in the same spot, until you’ll be begging me to stop it and the mark of it will never go away… Because I’ll bite it again and again when it heals. “ Jaskier swallowed, grabbing Geralt’s hips as he stuttered. “Fuck, Geralt, I’m close…!”

Geralt was far gone by then, and he began to rut back even more firmly on Jaskier’s cock, swivelling his hips just so – and suddenly it was perfect, the head of Jaskier’s cock was touching the deepest, tenderest place inside of him, brushing over it over and over again. He rutted his cock against the covers and then back, into Jaskier’s thrusts… but his undoing was Jaskier as he began to stroke his arse and the back of his thighs saying silly non-sense (“Ssssh… I got you… I got you…”) and then Geralt was coming, suddenly and brightly, feeling all the tension drain from his body.

“Oh fuck yes, Geralt!” Jaskier moaned as he rammed up the rhythm, making Geralt’s orgasm even more intense, and Geralt couldn’t help but keen.

“My… Omega!” Jaskier shouted as his knot finally popped in, and he was coming, biting down on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt welcomed the slight pain, and the pleasure, as the pulsing of Jaskier’s knot inside of him was milking the last spasms of his own orgasm out of him. When it was over, Geralt felt completely boneless, lying comfortably under the Alpha’s weight, with his cock in him… _Not just any Alpha now_ – he reminded himself – Jaskier was his mate… it was his mate’s cock and knot inside of him, and he felt his heart swell at the thought.

“You ‘llright?” Jaskier murmured into Geralt’s ear sounding close to sleep.

“Mmmh…” He hummed in reply.

“Good. That’s good.” Jaskier mumbled, sounding appeased. “Fuck, I may have to use my fingers for the next round… but hopefully…”

“Jaskier, it’s fine,” Geralt said, shushing the bard. “I have weathered many horny nights alone, or with Omega whores. I can… make do.”

“But I don’t want you to!” Jaskier’s voice snapped to Geralt’s surprise. “Damn it, Geralt! Yes, I know I don’t have to do things for you, but had it ever occurred to you that maybe I _want_ to?” The bard asked expectantly and Geralt felt his brows knot together. 

_Was that even a possibility?_ He hadn’t thought…

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’.” Jaskier repeated Geralt’s sound fondly. “Now shut up, I need a fifteen minute nap so I can fuck my mate again in thirty minutes…”

“Who said it can wait that long?” Geralt asked innocently.

Jaskier startled, body going tense – before he realised that Geralt was smirking. 

“You absolute arse!! Shut up or I’ll leave you here to suffer your heat alone!”

“Mmmh… you change your mind quickly.”

“Shut up!!!”

They stayed like that until Jaskier’s knot went down a bit and they were able to separate themselves, and then they lazed around a bit, drinking and eating while they could.

When Geralt’s erection returned, Jaskier made good on his promise of using his fingers. He fingered Geralt and sucked him off simultaneously until he came. Since there was no actual knotting involved, Geralt was ready to go soon after that, and that time, Jaskier allowed the Omega to ride him, because his back was feeling a bit sore from their previous round.

This time, their coupling was gentler – less urgent. Jaskier took Geralt’s hands into his hands and held them for the Witcher, helping him use them for purchase as he fucked himself slowly on Jaskier’s cock.

“Fuck… You’re gorgeous… so gorgeous…” Jaskier breathed after a particularly pleasurable thrust.

Geralt looked away, trying to focus on the delicious feelings instead of the Alpha’s words. But the other didn’t relent.

“Fuck, your thighs… I love your thighs, have I ever said that? So strong, so perfect…” And Jaskier was really looking at them, ogling them eagerly… in a way that Geralt couldn’t ignore. He felt a lazy flush begin to creep up from his chest to his neck…

“That’s it!” Jaskier said, nodding eagerly. “Yes! Lose yourself in it! Take your pleasure from me… Use me as you need it… Gods, Geralt, I would do this with you for a thousand more heats if I could…I’d never tire of watching you… so special, so beautiful…”

As Geralt listened to Jaskier’s words, he felt his own breathing grow increasingly ragged, and he began to drop himself onto the Alpha’s cock with more and more force, spearing himself, which was good… and then Jaskier reached around him and grabbed onto his arse, urging Geralt to lean forward, so his face was just above Jaskier’s… and that made the angle even better… Geralt took his cock into his fist.

“Fuck, Geralt!” Jaskier said in a broken voice, as he began to fuck up into Geralt’s pliant body, and the fingers that were digging into his arse slipped until they were close to his rim, making Geralt gasp and pant… and Jaskier, evil as he was, positioned one of his fingers next to his cock and pushed _in._

“Fuck!” Geralt swore.

“Is it okay?” Jaskier asked, voice breathless. “Not too much?”

Geralt wanted to roll his eyes – he had has Jaskier’s knot inside of him twice today and that was a great deal larger. But Jaskier was looking at him, all earnest concern, so he just shook his head.

“No, it’s… you can add more…”

Jaskier’s eyes rolled up into his head and the bard’s hips stuttered.

“Oh ffffuckk Geralt… you can’t say things like that… I won’t last….!”

Geralt smirked as he stopped moving. Jaskier gasped and tried to buck, but Geralt held his hips down using his hands.

Jaskier groaned in disappointment. “Oh you’re cruel… although I guess I’ve deserved that…” Jaskier tried to shuffle around, but Geralt still didn’t let him, causing the bard to break down in frustration: “Geralt, please, for the sake of all that’s holy…! -- _Fuck!_ ”

Geralt obliged his Alpha by returning to the previous rhythm with little build-up… And then Geralt was groaning, because Jaskier’s finger was still in him, next to his cock, and another finger was nudging up to his rim as well... And he allowed it, letting it breach him and penetrate him… feeling so-so full – and yet not full enough….

“Jaskier…” Geralt rasped. “Your knot… please…”

Jaskier nodded. “Yes, yes! Do you want it? Ask for it!”

Geralt didn’t even protest, he just closed his eyes as he focused on the feeling of Jaskier’s knot, pushing against his rim now, his fingers slipping out, burning, aching… too empty, not enough…

“Jaskier… I’m…- ahh!” Geralt wanted to warn the bard, but it was too late – he was coming, clamping down around Jaskier’s cock, and the bard pushed into him, forcing his knot into the convulsing heat.

They both swore and Geralt rolled them over, so he was lying on the bottom and Jaskier was on top; stuck together.

Jaskier giggled. “Oh oh oh! So you like being under me, hmm? It’s a good look on you…”

Geralt grimaced. “I didn’t want to risk crushing you, because I may need your cock yet.”

Jaskier gasp, mock-offened. “Just my cock?! I’m appalled! Not my clever wit or my beautiful voice, or my amazing looks…”

“Shut up, Jaskier.” Geralt said…

But again: there was no heat behind it. So Jaskier didn’t shut up, and Geralt actually found himself listening as the bard continued to ramble about everything and nothing (mating rituals in faraway lands and the best knotting positions for conceiving a babe, apparently), until they were finally able to separate themselves from each other.

“Oh, fuck!” Jaskier cursed as his cock finally slipped out of Geralt’s swollen hole. “Oh, sweet Melitele, I think my prick’s going numb! Umm - it may take a while before… “He stifled a yawn. “Before I can go again…”

Geralt nodded. “Actually… I think I’m good. For now.”

“Really?” Jaskier said, clearly surprised. “Oh, that’s a relief! Heats are typically most vicious in the first 24 hours, so I expected… worse. I mean – “ He added hastily. “Not that there’d be anything wrong with you needing more, but – I sort of anticipated that your heat may be especially hard to quell, because of ‘Witcher stamina’ and all at…”

Geralt focused on his body, but he felt no urgency, no need to fuck or be knotted. He just felt… sated, was the best way to describe it. Sated and satisfied. He shrugged. “Well, I’m good, for now. Do you want to wash yourself?”

“Yep, that sounds great!”

They heated some water in a pot and took turns cleaning themselves with clean, damp rags and some soap.

It felt brilliant to finally wash himself clean of all the slick, come and sweat, and Geralt felt himself becoming sleepy. It was pitch black outside – it must have been near dawn now. Geralt hoped that he wouldn’t wake up too early – if only his heat could stay away long enough for him to get some actual rest!

They fell into bed and put out the night light almost immediately. Jaskier snuggled into him, putting his head onto Geralt’s chest before falling asleep, and Geralt found himself listening to the Alpha’s slow, even breaths as sleep took him as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very long chapter of smut, essentially. I hope you enjoyed it! :) There will be about 10 more chapters after this one, I'd estimate, so I have corrected that in the description.  
> Don't worry, there will be a lot more plot before this story ends! As always, comments, kudos and suggestions are welcome! Thank you :)


	10. A New Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heat ends. Geralt and Jaskier begin their journey to Kaedwen in hopes of finding work, but they are attacked.

Geralt woke to Jaskier’s shuffling, as he was trying to get out of bed. The bard winced.

“Oh, sorry I woke you! I tried my best, but I guess…”

“It’s fine.” Geralt rasped, his voice rough from sleep.

“Right. Good!”

Jaskier took off to take care of his morning piss, closing the door after himself quietly.

Geralt turned onto his back, propping his hands under his head. He felt tired and his muscles ached, but overall he felt… good. There was no horniness, no urgency. He felt content to just lie there on their shared bed, taking in the scenery through the hut's little window. The sun was shining, drying the dew on the grass, birds were chirping… it was all so calm. So different from how his life usually was. No job to do, nothing except… wait for the heat to come back.

He couldn’t get used to this though. It… wouldn’t be right. And he couldn’t afford it anyway: ingredients for Witcher potions were expensive and hard to come by, he reminded himself. He needed to be travelling constantly, taking jobs wherever he could, in order to keep his supplies full.

Geralt sighed. As good as it was... this idyll here was temporary. There was nothing wrong with enjoying it, but he had to be careful not to let himself get used to it... to save himself from disappointment. He rubbed his face tiredly.

Jaskier came back, opening and closing the door gently behind himself.

“How are you, Geralt?” The bard asked, voice gentle. “Should we…?” He made a gesture to indicate that maybe he should get back in bed with the Omega.

“Mmh… I don’t know.”

Jaskier frowned in confusion. “ _You_ don’t know? How can you not?”

Geralt shrugged in frustration. “I don’t feel like I’m in heat… I mean, yes, I am _up_ , “ The Witcher said, waving at his crotch.” But that’s just… because it’s morning. Not heat-induced.”

Jaskier grinned. “Well, I don’t see any problem with that…”

The bard proceeded to show just how much he didn’t have issues with Geralt’s morning wood, by crawling under the covers and proceeding to suck the Witcher off slowly and thoroughly. Geralt tried to protest at first, but he relented quickly once Jaskier took his whole cock into his mouth and then began to tongue the slit _just so_ , making the lewdest sounds while he was doing it. Geralt came in a matter of minutes, and offered to return the favour, but Jaskier had taken care of himself while he was sucking him off as it turned out.

They laid back into the bed next to each other in a sated heap.

“Wow. Not a bad way to start the day!” Jaskier said, stretching his arms and legs slowly. “This feels very… leisurely, for a heat.” 

They lay in silence for a while, and Jaskier began to draw small circles on Geralt's chest with his fingers.

"Aren’t heats supposed to last for several days?" Geralt asked suddenly.

Jaskier hummed. “Well… It depends on the Omega, but generally speaking – yes, they are usually three days long at the very least.”

Geralt snorted in irritation. “After a week’s worth of pre-heat, my actual heat lasted - what, a day, maybe?”

Jaskier nodded. “Something like that. But hey, this was your _first_ heat. You are quite the late boomer…” Jaskier ducked Geralt’s annoyed swat. “Hey, no hitting the Alpha! Anyway, where was I? Yes, so you—you've just began to have heats now, so perhaps your hormones hadn’t settled yet. It isn’t unusual for Omegas to have irregular heats when they first begin to have them…”

Geralt gave Jaskier a dangerous glare. “I am _not_ an adolescent…”

“No, but maybe your reproductive organs may well be! I don’t know, Geralt!” Jaskier said, splaying his hands. “I was just trying to make an educated guess for your sake!”

Geralt huffed. “Well, what do I smell like to you? Do I still smell like I'm in heat?”

Jaskier leant in obediently to sniff Geralt’s neck, close to his scent glands where his mark was.

“Mmmh…” Jaskier hesitated.

“What?”

“It’s… it’s difficult to describe.” Jaskier said, frowning. “You don’t really smell like heat, but you also don’t really smell like your usual self.” Jaskier leant in to sniff him again. “And I can smell myself on you and I like it, hmmm…” He said, nuzzling the Witcher’s neck with his nose to make a point.

Geralt sighed, clearly put-out. “So I’m either still in heat or I’m not in heat. Great.”

Jaskier stroked along his shoulder gently. “I don’t see what the big deal is. We can just stay cooped up here for a few days to make sure the heat is over. A day or two more should do it. And then we can go on like nothing happened. Heats only happen twice a year, so you should have plenty of time till the next one.”

“Mmmh…” Geralt said, acknowledging. “Where do you want to go next?”

Jaskier smiled. “Wherever you are going… if you'll allow me?”

Geralt smirked wickedly in reply. 

“As long as you don’t cause any trouble.”

The bard faltered. “When do I ever? No, don’t answer that…”

* * *

In the end, they waited a full three days before they concluded that Geralt’s first heat was apparently a short one, for the symptoms didn’t return after the first day and Jaskier couldn’t smell the scent of heat at all once the Omega had had a bath.

So they packed their things and began to travel around aimlessly at first. In a nearby town, they heard rumours that there was more monster activity in Kaedwen than usual, and the king himself had issued an open plea to Witchers far and wide to help the kingdom. King Henselt promised to pay no less than five hundred coins for each monster’s head brought to his court in Ard Carraigh. That sounded fairly generous, and although Geralt had his doubts about the king’s sincerity, as Henselt was known to have had plans to banish all non-humans (including Witchers) in the past, Jaskier had finally convinced him that the opportunity of easy coin was too good to pass up.

On the way there, Geralt took some short-term contracts here and there, in small remote villages and towns; he sorted out a drowner problem and dealt with a pack of starving wargs. The villages in the area were poor and couldn’t pay much for the work, but they were happy to supply them with as much food and drink as they could carry, which they sorely needed by that point. Although usually, Geralt would have considered that as meagre payment, hearing Jaskier’s almost obscene moans of pleasure when he was finally presented with a plate of roast potatoes was… gratifying, and it made the Witcher feel warm in his chest. Though he would have never admitted that out loud.

True to his intentions, Geralt began to train harder to improve his stamina and his general physique, in preparation for facing the monsters – whatever they may turn out to be. He blamed Jaskier for having become less fit in recent years, as the bard always insisted that they stay at inns instead of camping in the wild. Inns just weren’t conductive to the type of fitness regimen Geralt had learnt to keep himself to, as a Witcher. One could only do so many push-ups and sit-ups before one got sick of them.

He did a lot of extra walking and hiking, occasionally even allowing Jaskier to travel on Roach while he himself opted to travel on foot, running next to them. Geralt was very happy with his progress in the initial few weeks, although progress slowed down a bit after that, but that was to be expected, because he was nearing the edge of his natural abilities: he had never been a particularly good runner or climber to start with! So no surprises there. All the extra training made him ravenous, so he found himself eating larger portions – which was all fine, thanks to the supplies they received as payment for Geralt’s past couple of jobs.

They were making good time on their journey towards Kaedwen, and Geralt estimated that at their current pace, they would get there before summer’s end; an exciting prospect, because winters in Kaedwen were famously cold; avoiding that would have saved them a lot of trouble. Jaskier perked up upon hearing these news and he became much more rigorous about getting up on time and helping Geralt pack their camp up in the mornings thereon after.

* * *

Everything was going well, until they reached the Kestrel mountains, which lay along the western border of Kaedwen. They needed to cross the mountains to travel further into the kingdom, towards Ard Carraigh, so Geralt led them along the Lutonski road which was supposed to be the easiest path across the Kestrel mountains.

The warning signs began to trickle in as they made their way along the Lutonski road. Some less subtle than others.

“Umm, Geralt!” Jaskier exclaimed, pointing at the sign at the side of the road. “Are you sure it is _safe_ to travel this way?! This notice certainly seems to suggest otherwise, I mean: “Warning, dangerus beests - go no furter if you hold your leaf dear”? I mean the spelling is atrocious but I’m fairly sure that last part is supposed to read as ‘life’…”

Geralt gave an annoyed grunt. “We are here to kill the monsters, Jaskier. We’ll be fine.”

“Not if they eat us first! It says ‘beasts’! Plural!” Jaskier protested, putting his hands on his hips. “As for me, I, myself would prefer to watch you fight off monsters one by one, instead of Gods know how many at once, thank you very much!”

Geralt smirked. “Could it be that you are scared, _Alpha?_ ” He said, emphasising the title sarcastically.

“Ha-ha!” Jaskier said, crossing his arms. “Very funny! We will see who is laughing when we get eaten…” the bard mumbled, looking genuinely concerned, and Geralt’s expression softened.

“Relax, Jaskier. We’ll be fine.”

Jaskier nodded grudgingly, letting out an audible sigh. “Okay, but… Must we take this road, I ask? What’s wrong with the other road we crossed, at the bottom of the mountains? That goes towards Ard Carraigh as well, right?”

Geralt nodded. “Yes, it does; but it doesn’t cross the Kestrel Mountains. It goes around the mountains; hundreds of miles south and then back up north again.” Jaskier’s hopeful expression crumpled. “If we take that road, it will be the middle of winter in Kaedwen by the time we arrive…”

“Oh fuck no!” Jaskier said decisively, shaking his head. “Winter is terrible up there! I’d rather get eaten by a wyvern than freeze in the snow storm!”

Geralt sighed, shaking his head. “Wyverns are very intelligent and don’t generally attack people unless ordered to do so by—”

“Yes, yes, yes, sure!” Jaskier waved his hand, interrupting Geralt’s explanation. “Let’s get going, this mountain isn’t going to climb itself!”

\--

It took them the better part of two days to get to the mountaintop, and then came the slow and gradual decent into Kaedwen. The forest around them was eerily quiet everywhere they went; there was no sign of beasts, natural or otherwise.

“Well, I’ll me damned!” Jaskier muttered. “Whoever put that sign there warning others of going this way was clearly joking! I haven’t even heard wolf cries in days, nevermind anything more sinister. Not exactly a monster infected-area.” He scratched his head. “Perhaps it was a mistake coming here… what if there are no monsters, and the king just plans to capture all the Witchers he can find? That wouldn’t be unlike Henselt, you have to admit—”

“Shut up, Jaskier!” Geralt snapped at him suddenly, seeming to be listening for something.

Jaskier stopped talking and listened in as well. After two minutes of silence, Jaskier mouthed at Geralt:

“What is it?”

Geralt frowned. “I could’ve sworn there was a tremor that ran through the ground.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Well – maybe it was an earth quake? I heard those happen in the Kestrel mountains sometimes, because of the vulcanic activity…”

Geralt’s eyes went wide.

“Jaskier get behind me!”

Jaskier had barely had time to blink before there was a huge insect in front of him, cutting him off from Geralt. The creature looked like a giant praying mantis; it had huge arms, it was standing on its hind legs, as tall as some of the trees around them, but worst of all it had a huge mouth and frightening jaws.

Jaskier shrieked and ran in the other direction, hearing Geralt’s shouts telling him to run. He didn’t need to be told twice.

He didn’t want to go too far, because he wanted to make sure Geralt was okay, but he also didn’t want to hinder the Witcher, so he ran just far enough that he was out of the mantis’ range. The creature was now fully focused on Geralt, who had managed to chop one of it’s many legs off – and the mantis didn’t take kindly to that, at all. It was seething with range, grabbing at Geralt with it’s sharp claws, using them like scythes. He cut a few trees down in his efforts, but Geralt was able to evade them and certain death, albeit narrowly.

Then suddenly, the creature spit at Geralt something that looked like acid, and Geralt shouted in pain, clearly blinded, and the creature was gearing up for the killing blow...

“Geralt!!!” Jaskier screamed without thinking as he began to run toward his mate.

And amazingly, the creature stopped! Frozen in place, as it seemed. Perhaps it was scared of him? But why?...

Jaskier didn’t have time to think because the creature had recovered by then and was lounging at them again.

“Jaskier, scream! The screaming… they don’t like high-pitched noises!”

“Whatt?? My…?” Jaskier wanted to tell Geralt that his screaming was manly and not high-pitched, thank you very much, but then the mantis’s claw was coming towards him, and he screamed – and the mantis missed again.

“That’s it!” Geralt said, as he got up from the ground, cleaning his eyes and face of the mantis’s sticky fluid. Jaskier continued to scream – it wasn’t hard to keep at it because every time he stopped, the creature lounged at them again, making him cry out in fear over and over again.

“Geralt, what are you wanting for?” Jaskier screamed as loudly in as high a voice as he could. “I can’t keep this up much longer, hurryyyy!!!”

Geralt seemed to be struggling to get to the mantis, as it was retreating because of Jaskier’s shrill cries. The thing was protecting its head, where its earholes should’ve been with his hands, so Geralt couldn’t see the head. He climbed up on the nearest tree, and finally got a glimpse of it, and he lounged at the creature with his sword, chopping its head in half. The creature died instantly, but being an insect, its body didn’t really get with the program and its arms began to flail around wildy and the throes of death, and one of them got Geralt straight in the leg, cutting deeply into his calf muscles, as he was hanging onto the creature by the hilt of his sword. He shouted in pain, but held on, because he was still five meters high in the air… until the creature tumbled and collapsed backward in a free fall.

“Geralt!” Jaskier’s scream rang out loudly, even over the sound of tree branches breaking and falling as the creatures body fell onto them. Thankfully, Geralt managed to stay on top, and so he wasn’t buried under the heavy insect-body, which now lay prone across the forest floor. He hissed as he tried to move and was instantly reminded of his injured calf, so he looked down to examine the injury. The muscle and skin was mangled, but thankfully, the bones seemed intact. Geralt was debating which potions to use when Jaskier ran up to him.

“Oh Gods, Geralt! Are you okay?” He paled when he saw the wound Geralt was leaning over. “Shit, your leg...!”

“It’s fine Jaskier. Just get my supplies…”

He had barely finished his sentence when a portal opened next to them and Yennefer stepped through it looking calm and collected as always.

“Hello, boys!” She said cheerfully. “I thought I’d check up on you.” She looked at Geralt meaningfully, addressing her words at him. “I placed a charm on you before we parted, that alerts me whenever your life is in danger. This was the first time it had been triggered.”

Geralt snorted, standing up using only his good leg. “Well, it is obviously defective. I’m fine, this is nothing…” Geralt had barely finished his sentence when he wobbled, feeling faint. _Mmh, perhaps he had lost more blood than he thought he did?_

“Geralt!” Jaskier’s scream rang out in his ear.

Geralt winced, mumbling weakly: “I’m right here Jaskier, for fuck’s sake!” His eyelids were getting heavy so he decided to close them, just for a minute…

He could hear Jaskier’s frantic pleas as he urged Yennefer to portal them to somewhere else. Then he saw Yennefer’s hand coming up to his temples, he closed his eyes and he was out.

Normally, Yennefer would have been the last person Jaskier would ever want to see, but as it turns out, a gravely injured Geralt could change that. Jaskier felt relief flood him when Yennefer appeared out of thin air, stepping out of one of those portal thingies.

Geralt stood up and then collapsed, and he was looking very pale, which was definitely not a good sign…

“Please, take us somewhere! This forest isn’t safe – there could be other monsters lurking around, and Geralt needs to see a healer…”

Yennefer interrupted him with a look, that was sharp but not unkind. “Why do you think I came, little bard? I’ll help him, we are going to my castle.”

Jaskier was momentarily stunned into silence.

“Oh. Thanks? I guess… I mean… that’s amazing! But how- why – why are you helping him..?”

Yennefer shook her head, her hands still touching Geralt’s temples.

“We don’t have time for this discussion, Jaskier. Tell me what happened when Geralt was fighting the chimera.”

“Chimera? You mean…?” Jaskier glanced at the mantis’s carcass next to them. “Ah, chimera, of course. Yes, well… I didn’t see much of it but…”

Yennefer interrupted him again. “Did he get stung? Poison?”

Jaskier shook his head. “No, I don’t think so…”

Yennefer shook her head. “His pulse is weak. It is too weak, and it is not from the blood loss…”

Jaskier gasped. “Oh, fuck! He-he – the chimera spat on him! Some sort of fluid that burned his eyes… but them he wiped it off and he seemed okay…”

Yennefer hummed. “Slow-acting poison then. Could be a simple paralytic or worse. I will need my tools to examine him properly, so we are going now.”

“Okay, yeah, no complaints here! Your place is always lovely, Yennefer… have I told you that yet?”

Jaskier shut up when Yennefer sent him a murderous glare and.. so much for polite conversation.

Yennefer created a portal underneath Geralt, so she wouldn’t have to move him, and allowed herself and Geralt to slip through before beckoning Jaskier to follow them.

They arrived into what looked like an unused room with a large bed and some basic furniture. Yennefer used her powers to levitate Geralt onto the bed, before she began to work on him in earnest.

The next hour or so was eventless, and neither of them spoke, save for Yennefer’s occasional barks aimed at Jaskier, requesting various tools and ingredients from her kit. The first time she did that, Jaskier had to remind her that he was a guest in her house and he had no idea where the blasted thing was…

In reply, Yennefer pointed at the nearby cupboard. After that, Jaskier accepted his unsolicited role as the sorceresses’ assistant, getting whatever she needed, including water, bandages, and at one point, an amulet from the other room.

The sorceress looked to be in a state of utter concentration, as she moved her hands over Geralt’s body, radiating a soft light, as if she was reading him and touching him from the inside – which could have been what she was actually doing, for all Jaskier knew! Sometimes she would frown, then her eyes would widen… and then she would be back to frowning in concentration. As he continued watching her, Jaskier could have screamed from the sheer tension that was currently in the room, over the two of them – but he behaved himself, because for all he knew, Yennefer needed all of her attention to fix Geralt; Jaskier wouldn’t jeopardise his mate’s well-being for the sake of satisfying his own curiosity, even if he was dying to know what Yennefer was doing, what she was seeing… _Is Geralt going to be okay? Please, Melitele, let him be okay…_

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Yennefer leant back in her chair and let her arms drop back to her side, taking a long, deep breath.

Jaskier felt a lump forming in his throat. “Is he… is he going to be okay?”

To his surprise, instead of answering him haughtily or mockingly – as she usually did – the sorceress smiled softly. “Yes, he will be, little bard. He was in more peril than he knew, but it’s gone now. The poison was a simple paralytic… Just stronger than expected.”

Jaskier nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest. “Right. That’s… good.” He looked at Yennefer, donning his most earnest expression. “Thank you, Yennefer. I don’t know how I can ever repay you… but… thank you for saving him, even though you didn’t have to…”

Yennefer smirked. “How do you know I didn’t just save Geralt to use him as a pawn for my own sinister purposes, hmm?”

Jaskier’s eyes widened in disbelief. “ _Wait a second!_ Did you ---- ?”

Yennefer rolled her eyes.

"Of course not, you idiot! I did it because… he is interesting. And I have unresolved business with him.”

Jaskier bristled upon hearing her words, a low growl erupting from him before he could stop it. Yennefer smiled at him jovially.

“Relax, Jaskier! I don’t mean it that way – not as an Alpha… In that sense of the word, we are over. Definitely over.”

Jaskier leant back, feeling slightly more in control, but not completely convinced, but he nodded.

“Oh, good. Then… it’s fine, I guess..?”

Yennefer gave him a sly look. “Besides… I could feel it on Geralt that he is claimed now. His scent has changed, his hormones changed… You two are mated, is that right?”

Jaskier felt himself blush – which was silly, why was he blushing? He had every right to take a mate if he wanted to… he just… didn’t expect to have to tell it to others… especially not like this..

He coughed, as he steeled himself. “Yes- yes we are. You have a problem with that?” He said in a challenging voice, his Alpha side still brimming under the surface.

Yennefer shook her head slowly. “No, I don’t. Good on you. I’m glad he finally saw reason.” She said, nodding towards Geralt.

“What?” It was Jaskier’s turn to look confused. “What – ? Wait a second, you mean, you’ve asked him to be your mate as well?”

Yennefer nodded. Jaskier’s mouth dropped open.

“And he said _‘no’?”_

Another nod.

Jaskier stared at the cupboard in front of him.

“Well, fuck me… That’s not what he said!” He said, pointing at Geralt suddenly.

Yennefer’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Oh? What did he say?”

“He said no one ever asked him! Well – actually those weren’t his words, but he said that he had never been together with someone long enough to consider mating them… Ah… “ Realisation dawned on Jaskier. “So he turned you down… because he wasn’t ready?”

Yennefer nodded. “That’s right… and if you ask me, he would have never been ready, no matter how long I would’ve waited for him… Because it just didn’t work between us.” She said, smiling sadly. “He never trusted me like he trusts you.” Jaskier grimaced at the sorceresses words, but she saw it and gave him a serious look in turn. “I see it on him, Jaskier. I see the way he relaxes when you touch him… I see the way he seems less… tense when you are around. That was the main reason I left him, actually.”

Jaskier’s brows furrowed. “What? Because he wouldn’t relax around you?”

Yennefer glared at him until Jaskier began to feel uncomfortable and then the sorceress let out a long-suffering sigh.

“No you idiot – I swear, _men_ , you are all idiots, whether human, Witcher, mage, sorcerer or elf!" Jaskier looked mildly affronted at Yennefer's cussing but he continued to listen "– No, I mean I left him because I saw that he loved you and trusted you! More than he ever loved me. And that hurt.” 

There was a sad, self-deprecating smile on Yennefer’s face, laced with pain of the kind Jaskier had never seen in her before. It made him want to reach out to hold her hand… so he did it; slowly, cautiously… he put one of his hands over Yen’s hand.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know…” Jaskier murmured.

“What are you on about?!” Yennefer asked, false cheer in her voice. “It wasn’t your fault! You didn’t make him choose you… he just – did. Not your fault.”

“I didn’t know… if that’s any consolation!” Jaskier said, laughing softly at the absurdity of the situation. “I mean… he was a right arse to me sometimes…”

“That should’ve been your clue.” Yennefer said smiling wickedly.

“Hmm, I guess so!” Jaskier conceded, chuckling softly.

Yennefer stood up. “Come on! Let’s get something to eat. He won’t go anywhere, I promise.” When she saw Jaskier’s hesitation, she added: “I have surveillance charms on these rooms; no one can leave or enter without me knowing. And I gave him enough sleeping drought to knock a horse out.”

Jaskier laughed. “Oh, good! Well in that case, I could really eat some potatoes… or better yet, do you have pierogi by any chance…?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The saga continues, with plot! Wow, wow, wow! :) Lots more Yennefer/Jaskier/Geralt banter to come in the next chapter. (And *gasp* more plot!!!! as well as some smut maybe)  
> Comments and kudos make my day! Thank you for all your support!


	11. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt wakes up and meets Yennefer.

When Geralt woke it was night-time. He could immediately tell that he was lying in a bed, which alarmed him, because his last memory was being in wilderness with Jaskier. It was pitch dark in the room, but his inhumanly sensitive eyes could still detect shapes in the darkness: he saw that he was in a small, simple room with some basic furniture. He relaxed as soon as he spotted his clothes and his gear on a nearby chair – he wasn’t a prisoner then. Good.

He found a pitcher and a clean cup on the nightstand and helped himself to some water, gulping down the cool liquid hungrily. His throat had been parched, which told him that he must have been unconscious for quite a long time.

The door creaked open, a sliver of light shining in from the corridor, as someone stepped in carrying a torch. It didn’t take long for Geralt to recognise the figure as Yennefer and he relaxed, falling back against the pillows.

“Hey,” Yennefer said, smiling softly at him. “I had a feeling you might be awake already. How are you feeling?”

Geralt stopped short as the memories of his fight with the chimera came flooding back – _oh, that’s right!_ He was fighting the chimera, he got injured and Yennefer appeared out of a portal, and then… he couldn’t remember anything after that, he must have lost consciousness. He scanned his body quickly, searching for feelings of pain or tension, but found little.

When she received no immediately reply, Yennefer turned around and proceeded to light the torches along the walls, creating enough light in the room to see properly. Geralt noted that the sorceress seemed tired; she was wearing a caftan over a nightgown; clearly she rose from her sleep just to check up on him, and Geralt felt a pang of guilt at that.

“I’m fine.” The Witcher said, sitting up a bit higher in the bed to prove his words. “I guess a thank you is in order, because I can’t remember how I got here, and that tells me that you had something to do with it.”

The sorceress grabbed a chair, pulling it close to the chair before she sat down, graceful and composed as always. Geralt also noted that something seemed different in the way she was, but he couldn’t pinpoint the change.

“Well, I happened to have some free time and the tracking charm I placed on you had alerted me that you were in danger, so I thought I’d check on you. It had been a while since we parted in Caigorn… and I was surprised to see that you were not far from that place, in the Kestrel Mountains. Do you remember the fight with the chimera?”

Geralt nodded.

“Yes. But I thought I was fine, after the fight. There was a cut on my left leg, but I didn’t notice anything else.”

“Yes, that wasn’t particularly deep or challenging an injury.” Yennefer said. “But there was poison as well. Thankfully, Jaskier told me about it, and I was able to isolate it in your system, before it could do harm.”

Geralt just nodded automatically, digesting the news, but upon hearing Jaskier’s name, he looked up sharply.

“Where is Jaskier?” He asked, perhaps a touch more gruffly than he intended it to sound, but thankfully, Yennefer didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the witch seemed amused as she replied:

“Relax, he is fine! There was not a scratch on your bard; you guarded him well.”

Geralt hummed. Yennefer was seemed to be enjoying the situation far too much, but in his current state, the Omega couldn’t think of any comeback that could have helped put her into her place, so he stayed silent.

“He is sleeping in the next room,” She added. “I’ve threatened to take his manhood away if he tried visiting you before I had given you the all-clear. He had been very well-behaved since then.” The witch said, smiling sweetly.

Geralt snorted.

“It would have sufficed to threaten him with an aging spell.”

“Oh, I wish I’d thought of that!” Yennefer agreed, laughing. Geralt felt his own lips turn into an involuntary little smirk as well. It was… nice. Exchanging friendly banter with Yennefer like in the old days. It almost made him hope that perhaps they could salvage something of what they’ve had – even if they’ve clearly failed romantically.

Geralt let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding, as he looked up at Yennefer.

“Well – thank you for helping me _and_ Jaskier…“ He said, not quite looking at the sorceress.

“You know I didn’t just do that out of the goodness of my heart – I wanted to snoop on you, to see how you were doing… Even if we are no longer together, I still think of you fondly, Geralt.” She said, giving him a bittersweet smile.

For a second, Geralt felt taken aback by her admission, and he really _looked_ at Yennefer then: she seemed… calm. Calmer than she had been when they had been together, that’s for sure. She seemed more self-assured, as if she had grown in the time they’d been apart… even though it had only been eight or nine months since then.

He realised what was different about her: she didn’t seem angry anymore. When they were together, Yennefer had always radiated a wilfulness, an undercurrent of frustration – because she was frustrated at the world; she was angry with everything and everyone. It was what had drawn Geralt to her. He _liked_ that fire in her, even if it could prove destructive at times.

Now… the fire wasn’t exactly gone, but it seemed to have been tamed. Yennefer seemed… tired, but happier than Geralt could ever remembered seeing her.

And that was a _sad thought_ – knowing that she was already better off than she had been when Geralt was with her – but… it was also good to see.

He returned her smile.

The sorceress shook her hair out of her face, sighing before she spoke again.

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order for you both!” She said with a too-wide smile.

Geralt’s brows crinkled.

“What do you mean --?” He figured out what the sorceress meant mid-speech and he groaned audibly. “Argh, fuck! Of course, Jaskier would’ve told you!”

It was Yennefer’s turn to look confused now.

“No, he didn’t. I figured it out on my own.” She held up a hand quickly, in what was clearly meant as a reassuring gesture. “Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him, in case you hadn’t broken the news to him yet-- I wasn’t sure…”

Geralt was getting a headache just from listening to the sorceress.

“What _the fuck_ are you on about, Yen? He – Jaskier- didn’t tell you we’d mated?”

Yennefer’s brows shot up.

“OH! _That!_ No, of course he told me that!!” She said, nodding fervently. “Yes, he did – in great detail, may I add… wow, what a story that was!” She smirked. “It sounded like something from a romance novel or an epic perhaps--- “ Geralt couldn’t help but groan at that. That was… so – _Jaskier._

Yen smiled (revelling in his pain, no doubt), but then her expression turned tender as she looked up at him again.

“No –“ She said, licking her lips. “I meant the pregnancy. I wanted to… congratulate you on that.” She said, finishing her sentence awkwardly.

“What?” Geralt asked, deadpan.

Yennnefer’s reaction was instantaneous as she froze, eyes widening in disbelief.

“You- you didn’t know?!” She squeaked, shoulders bunching up. Geralt still didn’t know what she was on about, so he stayed silent, even as Yennefer jumped up, beginning to pace up and down the room, muttering at herself or an imaginary third person, gesticulating. “Gods, Geralt! I didn’t tell Jaskier, because I wasn’t sure if you had told him already or not – “ She turned to look at the Witcher. “But I had figured that at least _you_ had to have known--!” She paused but then carried on. “I’m sorry! I’m so-so sorry – this is _not_ how I should’ve told you! Oh, Gods! – But I was _sure_ you knew, I mean---!”

Yennefer just went on and on, until Geralt felt ready to smash something from the tension that was building up in him.

“Yennefer!” Geralt interrupted her in a firm voice. The sorceress fell silent, finally looking at Geralt and noticing the other’s tension, just as the Omega brought his hands up to rub at his temples.

“I had _just_ woken up after being out for _Gods know_ how long! -- My head is smarting and I feel like _shit_ \---” Geralt said empathically, and the sorceress cringed. “So I would really-really appreciate it if you could stop speaking jibberish right about _now---_ And tell me: _what the fuck is going on?!”_ His voice got louder as he spoke, until he was almost shouting the question.

To her credit, Yennefer seemed remorseful, as she sagged back into the chair, visibly composing herself. She looked at Geralt earnestly.

“You are pregnant, Geralt.”

Geralt felt as if his insides had turned to ice, but he replied instinctively.

“No, I’m not! I _can’t_ be!” He shot back, snarling.

Yennefer’s voice turned harder.

“Well I am telling you, _you_ are! And based on the way you two are acting, I’d wager it’s Jaskier’s child you are carrying.” She said, expression turning stormy. “You _know_ how badly I wanted a child, Geralt! Do you think I would joke about something like this?” She asked, voice almost desperate.

Geralt frowned, fighting his headache and his swirling thoughts.

“No… but – _Fuck!_ ” He exclaimed. “It’s impossible, Yen! Witchers are –”

“Infertile, yes. And they don’t have emotions either, right?” She asked sardonically.

Geralt glared at her and Yen sighed.

“Look, Geralt… I don’t understand it either, okay?” She said slowly, carefully, seemingly deep in thought. “But if all the research I did in the past decade trying to regain my own fertility has taught me anything, it is this: fertility is much more complicated than it seems. Even if one has all the necessary parts and is in good health – some people are just _incapable_ of falling pregnant – unless,” A small smile appeared on her face. “Unless, it is with the right partner.”

Geralt felt his stomach drop at Yennefer’s words. The witch carried on, oblivious.

“It seems like… To create life… you need more than just the bare necessities; you need a little magic. A little chaos. Luck. Destiny. Call it whatever you want to call it… And it seems to me that you’ve found yours.” Yennefer concluded, smiling with that pained expression on her face.

Geralt looked down at his abdomen, still in shock, but trying to believe – no, _forcing_ himself to accept the situation.

And then he remembered something, and he turned to Yennefer frantically: “You said the chimera had poisoned me – is it…?” He couldn’t finish the question because words failed him.

Yennefer rushed to answer him.

“No, relax! The poison hadn’t reached the babe; I neutralised it before it could. The babe is doing fine!”

Geralt sighed a big sigh of relief – surprised that he could feel so many strong emotions in such a short amount of time, but then again… it was a lot to take in. He was still struggling to digest the news that he was pregnant in the first place.

He nodded slowly.

“Good… Thank you, Yennefer.” He said, looking up at her slowly, meaningfully; hoping that his gaze would express what he couldn’t express with words. Then, as his thoughts wondered, another question bubbled up in him: “Do you -- Do you know, if it’s a boy or a girl?”

Yennefer shook her head.

“Too early to tell, Geralt. I couldn’t see anything. It is a wee little thing, for now.”

He nodded. “Hmm…”

They sat in silence for a while. Yennefer eventually rose, dusting her robes off as she did.

“Well, I should go back to sleep now... and you should try to get some more rest as well. The poison was powerful, and it took a toll on you – you will need a few days to regain your energy. Geralt,” She said, shooting the Witcher a serious look. “Jaskier _deserves_ to know. If you don’t tell him when he comes to visit you later today, I will. You can’t stop me from doing so.” She said in a voice that bore no arguing.

Geralt nodded, smiling bitterly.

“I would have told him anyway. You didn’t need to threaten me.”

Yennefer looked up at Geralt’s words, clearly surprised.

“Hmm… Looks like your bard had helped you change for the better already!” The sorceress said, clearly approving. “Good on you, Geralt.“ She stopped for a second and continued in a softer voice. “He is a nice person, you know… and a good mate. You chose well.”

Geralt felt guilt hit him and he grimaced.

“Thank you, Yennefer. I’m sorry it turned out this way --- ”

“Don’t be stupid Geralt.” Yennefer interrupted her firmly, but without malice. “ _If_ we were still together, you wouldn’t be pregnant. So – don’t be sorry! It’s fine. I have… accepted the dragon’s prophecy anyway…” She said, but Geralt could see her body tense at the mention of the prophecy. _The sorceress will never regain her fertility…_ The golden dragon’s words.

Yennefer turned to leave again. Against his better judgement, Geralt found himself calling after her:

“Yen, you – You saved this child. Our child.” He steeled his voice. “You will always have a place in their life, if you want to…”

Yennefer didn’t turn and she didn’t say anything, just left the room in a hurry, shutting the door quietly behind herself.

There was silence in her wake.

Geralt sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his hands. He knew he had done a myriad of bad things in his life: he had hurt Yen, _and_ he hurt Jaskier… And now – he thought, rubbing his abdomen gingerly – now there was someone else who was important to him, and he already felt like he had let this little life down as well, because he _had_ put this child in danger; even if it was unbeknownst to him. He still _had_ …

And it may happen again, because _he_ was the one carrying this child: danger had always had a way of following him wherever he went.

“What should I do?” He asked the bump, but there was no answer. “What if Jaskier doesn’t want you?”

As soon as Geralt had uttered those words, he felt a strange calm settle over him.

 _That_ , at least he knew the answer to: he would keep this child – no matter what.

Because now that it had happened… now that he was with child… It was a miracle! It was something that shouldn’t have been possible, even Yen didn’t know how it was possible – and it may _never_ happen again.

Perhaps – probably – this was his _only_ chance at having a child – and who was he kidding? He had _wanted_ this! Had yearned for it, had dreamt about it, since the time he had come to age… For years and years… He looked at humans who had children and he longed for one of his own; someone to take care of, someone who would need him…

 _No_ , he thought, steeling himself, crossing his hands on his belly protectively. He wouldn’t give up this child, not even if they sent a hundred assassins after him; not if the entire world turned on him. He would keep this babe; he knew.

And he would do what he had to do to make sure this child had a better life than he had; no matter the price. If it came down to it, if he needed to give up on being a Witcher, he would do that too. Perhaps he could find a different sort of job, or settle down, live in the woods in a little cabin, at least until the child is grown. Eighteen years wasn’t a long time to wait (not by Witcher years) – he could do it.

He knew he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a very hard chapter to write. I re-wrote and re-composed this text over and over until it finally became what it is now. I hope it isn't too confusing or choppy, but in any case, there will be more explanations in the next chapter, so please bear with me until then. I hoped you enjoyed this update, even though it as short.  
> As always, thank you very much for the comments and kudos! Comments are life! * - *


	12. Another Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt shares the news with Jaskier.

Geralt laid awake for a long time. Every time he got close to falling asleep, another concern would pop into his head and push sleep just barely out of reach again…

Louder than all his other thoughts was a memory that kept replaying itself in his head of a talk he’d had with Vesemir many years ago. Geralt must have been no older than twenty-five years old at the time; a child by Witcher years. He asked Vesemir to talk to him in confidence and they went down to the gardens, where Geralt finally shared what was troubling him.

“I keep having the same dream: in my dream I am pregnant, and I feel happy and at peace. Even though I don’t know who the child is from! Well, anyway, it’s a dream…” Geralt said, getting a bit flustered, before he steeled himself to continue. “I know I can never _be_ pregnant, but it feels so… _right_ in the dream. And it’s more than that, it’s… it feels as if there is a void in me that can’t be filled any other way. I can’t help wishing I could experience that; or if I could at least experience what it is like to raise a babe or to raise a child… I know that it’s probably just my Omega side talking, but…” He trailed off, feeling too ashamed to continue.

“It definitely comes from your Omega side,” Vesemir said, smiling at him gently. “No other Witcher had ever expressed such a desire save for you just now.” The old Witcher sighed, rubbing his chin. “I guess it is to be expected, but unfortunately, I don’t have much knowledge on these matters, as you know…”

The old Witcher coughed in embarrassment – he loathed talking about matters of gender or biology.

“I know, I know!” Geralt said, quick to reassure him. “I just--!” He bit his lip, insecurity making him hesitant.  
“I guess… I just wanted to ask your advice: do you think there is any chance I could… maybe… adopt a child -- one day? _If_ the circumstances allowed…”

Geralt held his breath as he waited for his mentor’s reply. He felt Vesemir’s gaze on him, and it felt like he could see through him, right into his soul, as always.

The silence was making Geralt tense, so he spoke again:

“I _know_ it wouldn’t be easy!” He said empathically. “I know it would be damn hard… But if I put my mind to it… If I prepared…”

Vesemir put his arm around Geralt’s shoulder; a comforting gesture. There was a long silence between them again. When he finally spoke, his tone was gentle but firm.

“The people who made us… They made us sterile for a lot of reasons… One of the kinder ones is because this lifestyle isn’t suited to a child.” He said, looking directly into the younger Witcher’s eyes. “It is far too dangerous… Don’t go down that road, Geralt. It will only bring you heartache – trust me on this.” The old Witcher said earnestly.

He stood up and left, clearly finished with talking for the day, but Geralt stayed there for a long while.

Hearing those words had been painful, but Geralt trusted Vesemir; the knew the other Witcher wanted the best for him – so he took his advice and he made it his own.

He hadn’t seriously entertained the idea of having a child again since then. Until _now._

What would Vesemir think if he knew that Geralt intended to go against his words? Would he be disappointed? Or angry perhaps?

Geralt had intended to go to Kaer Morhen for the winter to spend time with Vesemir and the other Witchers, once he had finished the monster hunting in Kaedwen – but he wasn’t so sure if that was a good idea anymore…

He was startled out of his thoughts when he noticed a familiar pain in his neck; his muscles were tensing up from his thoughts again.

“Fuck!” He muttered into his pillow frustratedly, turning to his other side and then back onto his back, beginning to practice the meditation techniques again.

He finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning.

* * *

When he woke it was to the sound of the door opening and the smell of fresh pastries wafting through the air.

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled as soon as he saw him. “Good morning, my darling! Thank goodness, you’re awake, it’s almost noon! Yennefer wouldn’t let me disturb you earlier, she said you needed to rest…“

He felt groggy and tired, but he still smiled a little at seeing his Alpha, who was approaching him with a joyous expression on his face, carrying a huge tray.

“Hmm…” Geralt let out a low hum as he sat up in the bed and then let out a long yawn. “Well, I can’t say I was awake until you came in just now...”

“Yeah, yeah, poor you!” Jaskier said dramatically, smirking. “How _dare_ I wake you at half past noon, bearing breakfast of all things?!”

“Hmm.”

There was a great selection of breakfast foods on the tray: pastries and jams, porridge with nuts and seeds and fresh fruits, glasses of milk and fruit juices. Doubtlessly, it reflected Yennefer’s tastes; the sorceress has always had a sweet tooth.

Geralt tucked in and mercifully, Jaskier allowed him to eat in peace, passing the time by filling Geralt in on what he had been up to in the past couple of days. As it turned out, he had mostly spent his time exploring the castle they were currently in; an abandoned castle somewhere in Temeria. Yennefer had renovated the place to her tastes and had taken up residence here, returning here whenever she wanted to take some time off from her job as a travelling mage.

Jaskier told him about the elaborate illusions Yennefer had created in certain rooms of the castle; apparently, there was a waterfall room with a beautiful crystal clear pool was always the perfect temperature for its visitors and there was an artificial sun casting its rays all day there. And then there was another room with pillows and incense burners and thousands of teas to choose from; not to mention Yennefer’s wardrobe: a huge room filled with dresses, gowns and disguises of all kinds and – amazingly! – even men’s clothing, some of which had fit Jaskier and Yennefer was gracious enough to donate a beautiful emerald doublet to him and he was over the moon about that…

“Yeah, sounds like Yennefer.” Geralt said sardonically. The witch had always had a flair for the dramatic.

“You're up I see,” Yennefer said, glancing in through the door just as Geralt had uttered the remark. “You are looking better. Still, you should take it easy for today; so no bedroom gymnastics for you two! And I _will_ know it if you break the rules, have no doubt about that...”

Jaskier gaped, looking affronted, but there was also a rampant blush on his cheek.

“Why’d you think we would – oh geez, you evil…! That’s just –! It’s ridiculous to assume….!”

“Yeah, yeah, the maid doth protest too much, “Yennefer drawled, clearly amused at the bard’s embarrassed protests. “Well, I guess I should give you two some alone time – you must have a lot to talk about.”

Geralt could have sworn the sorceress was giving him a knowing look as she said that… the evil wench…

“Dinner will be served at sunset. Don’t be late!” She said in a sing-song song as she left just as suddenly as she had appeared.

Jaskier was still panting with annoyance.

“Can you believe her?! The nerve…!”

Geralt smirked at the bard’s apparent irritation with the sorceress.

“Well, you too seem to be getting along better at least.”

“Noooo!” Jaskier retorted immediately. “Oh no, no, no! We will never get along! She is evil, Geralt! I swear, evil personified!” He said, gesturing violently. “I don’t even understand, how can _she_ be your ex? She is sooo…” He waved. “Like Yennefer! Not -- like _me…_ ”

Although he was animated, there was a visible dip in Jaskier’s tone as he uttered the last words, insecurities showing. Geralt sighed.

“Come here,” The Witcher said, helping Jaskier up so he was sitting next to him on the bed, tucking the bard under his arm, so that his head was resting on his chest – a position they became accustomed to during their time in the hut during Geralt’s heat. Jaskier seemed to calm visibly as soon as Geralt had put his arms around him, snuggling into the Witcher, breathing in his scent deeply.

“Mmmh…” The bard murmured. “Do you know how worried I was about you? You can’t have any idea. I was… crawling out of my skin, Geralt. It was… horrible… so I kept wandering off in the castle to find things to explore, because I just couldn’t take the waiting – waiting for you to wake up, it felt like weeks.”

Geralt was amused at the bard’s complaints, up until Jaskier looked up at him and he saw the genuine hurt in his Alpha’s eyes.

“Don’t ever do this to me again, Geralt – _please._ I- I don’t know if I can take it…”

“You know I didn’t get hurt on purpose…” Geralt replied, feeling a pang of guilt hit him.

“I know, Geralt,” Jaskier said, looking at him with an open, vulnerable expression on his face. “But I would like you to be more… cautious with the risks you take. I told you I had a bad feeling about the crossing – but you didn’t listen. And I swear, it feels like bravado, when you do that! I wonder if you enjoy it.. maybe you get a kick out of putting yourself into dangers way –” Geralt tried to interrupt Jaskier to protest, but Jaskier held his hand up, silencing him. “Whatever the reason for your recklessness, Geralt – I just… please, try and imagine being me. Imagine if I was putting myself in danger’s way all the time, taking huge risks – how would you feel?” Geralt fell into a contemplative silence at that because the thought… well, that thought was grim. Jaskier carried on. “And – Gods forbid – try and imagine that I got hurt, like you did this time – you were seriously injured, Geralt! And – if it wasn’t for Yennefer – who knows what might have happened? How would you feel, Geralt? Watching me slip away, dying from an unknown poison, being unable to do anything, but watch…?” The bard’s breath hitched, clearly upset at the memory.

Geralt winced. “But Yen was there…”

“Yes – this time, Geralt!” Jaskier shot back, clearly agitated. “But what if she hadn’t been? What then?”

Geralt didn’t say anything – he couldn’t protest- not without explaining that actually, he himself would have been fine – it’s just the babe he was carrying that would have possibly been effected from the venom…

So instead, he sighed, taking Jaskier’s hand and squeezing it gently – the way he always liked it when Jaskier did the same.

“I – can’t promise never to get injured again, but I promise I’ll be more… considerate of your feelings in the future. Is that… enough?” He asked, fearing the answer.

To his surprise, Jaskier nodded.

“Honestly, I didn’t even expect that much from you!” The bard said, amusement crinkling his eyes. “Make no mistake, I don’t expect the impossible – of course you are bound to get injured sometimes, you have a dangerous profession… but if you can be a bit more cautious – that’s all I ask.”

Geralt felt warmth flood him at Jaskier’s words.

“Hmm, that I can do.” He said, hugging the Alpha tighter. He hesitated a second before he coughed a bit, clearing his throat to say the words that were stuck in there. “Jaskier… I am sorry. You were right – I was… careless. I am still used to having regard for nobody’s feelings, but my own.” He sighed, realising how bad that had sounded, but deciding to continue anyway. “And honestly, I’m not sure if that will ever change, because that’s how I’ve always been…”

Jaskier squeezed his hand gently.

“Hey! Well – you just said, you’d try. That’s enough for me!” He said, smiling gently. “In any case, I’ll just keep reminding you to be more careful - until you start remembering it! You know I can be persistent…” Jaskier chuckled.

Geralt smiled bitterly. _I don’t deserve him…_

He held his Alpha even tighter, hoping to convey his gratitude that way.

They stayed like that for a long while, until Geralt had to get up – the call of nature getting to him.

When he returned to the room, Jaskier was sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Shall we go outside? You are not on bed-rest as far as I’m aware and the weather is wonderful today!” 

Geralt was suprised to note that the weather was indeed very pleasant; he hadn't even noticed it but the sun was shining and there was not a cloud in sight.

They made their way to the courtyard, which had a beautiful rose garden in it. The place reminded Geralt eerily of Kaer Morhen’s gardens – the place where he’d told Vesemir that he yearned to have a child all those years ago!

He smiled sadly, noting that he still couldn’t escape fate and destiny… Apparently, he was cursed to relive the same dreadful conversation _again_ , and he could only hope that Jaskier’s reply would be different than Vesemir’s was…

It was _his_ child afterall… surely, that would make a difference?

Still, Geralt felt incredibly nervous as he interrupted Jaskier – the bard had been talking to him about the merits of Temerian poetry versus Nilfgaardian eposes.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, voice forced although he was aiming for neutrality.

Jaskier fell silent immediately, looking at the Omega attentively, no doubt surprised because usually Geralt could listen to him for hours before he interrupted him. Geralt felt flustered, but he forced himself to speak: “I… there is something I have to tell you.” He said, looking at his palms.

Jaskier’s brows furrowed.

“All right. What is it?”

And Geralt _wanted_ to tell him, but the problem was, he couldn’t decide where to begin.

Jaskier – impatient as ever- couldn’t wait quietly, of course…

“Geralt, are you okay? Oh, sweet Melitele’s tits, I hope this isn’t about some emotional crisis or revelation you are having! The last time you acted like this was in Blaviken, and as happy as I am with the outcome now, I do _not_ wish to re-live a repetition of that experience ---”

“Would you just shut up for a second, Jaskier?!” Geralt shouted, and okay, maybe that wasn’t the kindest thing to say when one’s mate is obviously just concerned, but he couldn’t help it, his frustration and his worries were getting to him. He raked his fingers through his hair, sighing nervously, as he shut his eyes, wishing he could be anywhere but here in this very moment…

There was nothing to it.

“Geralt, you are scaring me…” Jaskier said, in a low voice, sounding concerned now. “Please, say _something_ …”

Geralt spoke abruptly.

“I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

Geralt still wasn’t looking at Jaskier, as he was waiting for his reaction anxiously. It felt like an eternity when it finally came…

“What – what are you saying?” The bard’s voice was hesitant as he spoke.

Geralt sighed, finding that his anger had evaporated at hearing his mate’s cautious tone.

“Don’t make me say it again.” He said, turning his head away, and just barely resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands because fuck, this was… too hard. He knew Jaskier deserved to know, and he deserved Geralt to grace him with his presence when he told him, but he wished he could be somewhere else – anywhere but here, having to listen to Jaskier’s rejection… even if it was heartfelt…

Jaskier didn’t speak again, so Geralt broke the silence.

“You don’t have to – do anything. But I – I would like to keep it. I hope that’s okay…” He sighed, looking away. “I didn’t know that it was possible for me to get pregnant – if I would have known, I would have told you. Yennefer doesn’t understand it either… but she is sure I am – with child, that is- --”

Jaskier’s voice was soft as he spoke.

“How do _you_ feel about it?”

Geralt felt a surge of irritation shoot up in him again.

“What do you want me to say, Jaskier?! Should I lie and say 'I don’t care'? Or say 'I don’t want it', to make you feel better?”

Jaskier’s face became stormy. “What the fuck, Geralt --!”

“I’m happy, okay?” Geralt said, snapping at him. “I’m happy and I am scared and I am _terrified!_ I worry I can’t go to Kaer Morhen ever again, that I will be an outcast among Witchers, and that my child will be an outcast amongst humans because _I_ will be its _mother!_ It’s all fucked up, Jaskier!” He shouted, punching his knees in frustration. Jaskier was looking at him carefully, and that just made Geralt’s skin feel even tighter. He sighed, feeling tired.   
“But… despite all this… I’m happy for it. Gods help me, I am… even though I shouldn’t be, because I am probably fucking this child’s life up already, but I can’t help it… -- I want to keep him or her. But I'll understand if – “ He said voice trailing off. “If you’d rather not be – _associated_ …” He winced at his own wording.

Jaskier sighed.

“Fuck, Geralt.”

Geralt steeled himself, and was surprised when he felt the Alpha’s arms wrapping around him.

“I’m happy too, you idiot. But I would be okay, if you weren’t – it’s -it’s a shock. But… a good one!” Jaskier’s voice was shaky as he laughed, and Geralt was still in a stupor but he felt the corner of his mouth twitch up at the Alpha’s – at his _mate’s_ words.

“You’re happy?” Geralt asked hoarsely.

“Yes, I am!” He said, beginning to squeeze Geralt’s shoulders almost painfully, fingers digging into Geralt’s biceps, leaving marks no doubt- not that he cared. “Fuck, Geralt, I never thought this --- that this could ever be possible! That it was even… on the table! God, I’m so happy! I’m glad _you’re_ happy – you are, right? You want this?” he asked.

For a second, things felt simpler.

“I do.”

Jaskier nodded.

“Good. Good.”

They stayed like that for a long while, shadows rising and falling on the courtyard around them. Jaskier held him, muttering quietly.

“Don’t leave me, Geralt… never leave me, please… _please, Gods, don’t leave me…”_

Geralt could feel his heart hurting, hearing the pain in his lover’s voice… And yet he couldn’t help feeling happy as he allowed himself to be hugged by Jaskier, feeling fuller than he had ever felt in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another hard chapter, full of feels. Well, Jaskier knows now! Get ready for lots of emotional pregnant Geralt, "nesting" and other fun (angsty) things in coming chapters. If that sounds like your jam, then you are reading the right story :) 
> 
> As always, thank you for the kudos and the lovely comments. I will try and update quicker with the next chapter, it's just these important scenes are hard to write. Thank you for bearing with me.


	13. Dinner at Yen's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt, Jaskier and Yennefer sit down for dinner and important matters are discussed.

They went to the dining room come sunset to eat dinner around Yennefer’s table. Dinner was creamy potato soup with freshly baked bread and then some cold meats and cheeses with pickled vegetables, fresh butter and more bread; with ale and mead to drink.

They had barely begun the meal when Yennefer spoke, looking straight at Geralt.

“Have you told him?”

Geralt gave Yennefer an impassive look.

“Don’t ask as if you weren’t eavesdropping the whole time.”

Jaskier’s reacted by choking on his soup – loudly.

“You know me too well.” Yen said, smiling sweetly as she popped another small piece of bread into her mouth, savouring it.

“Gods, no! I feel so… violated!” Jaskier moaned once he got his voice back, burying his face in his hands.

“Ah, don’t fret, bard, you two were _adorable_!” Yennefer said, still smiling ear to ear, before she sobered up a little bit. “Giggles and jokes aside, I was glad you both agreed to keep the babe. I was ready to intervene should either of you misunderstood the other…”

“Yeah, right, like that ever -- happens!” Jaskier said flippantly, before he realised the truth of Yennefer’s words. He looked at the witch with a wary expression. “In any case, we don’t need your _meddling,_ thank you very much!”

“Like you didn’t need it after the fight with the manticore?” Yennefer asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s – different!” Jaskier sputtered, looking at his mate with alarm. “Geralt, tell her, please!”

Geralt hummed, looking up from his meal.

“I’ve been meaning to ask what you’ve found out about my pregnancy so far.”

Jaskier seemed to have been struck dumb by the question, so he didn’t even protest at the blatant changing of the subject.

“Well, it is not an easy topic to research that’s for sure,” She said cautiously. “The amount of literature available about Witcher biology is already scarce – nevermind _Omega_ Witcher biology… However, I have reached some conclusions. First of all, based on the timing of your latest heat, it is clear that you conceived during that time – which explains why your heat was so short. It wasn’t stunted as you assumed, it was cut short because you were impregnated on the first day of your cycle. Heats are known to stop as soon as an Omega conceives.”

“Oh, that… actually makes sense.” Jaskier said, looking at Geralt, who shrugged.

“But why was I able to go into heat at all?” The Witcher asked. “We are supposed to be infertile…”

Yennefer nodded. “And there must be some truth to that, because there are no tales of any Witcher siring offspring, or bearing a child themselves – but that doesn’t necessarily mean it had _never_ occurred before; only that it wasn’t documented. Which could have happened for a variety of reasons, mostly political…” She waved her hand, as if dismissing the trail of thought. “But what matters is this: Witchers are not infertile because they are missing their reproductive parts. You have all the parts needed. They are just… slow or inactive, for the most part.”

Jaskier was struggling to take in all the new information being presented to him, but his mate did not seem to be having any trouble, looking at the sorceress intently.

“So why were mine activated?” Geralt asked.

Yennefer smirked.

“Well… if I could hazard a guess… you’ve mated recently, right? And you gave him a bond bite?” Yennefer asked, turning to Jaskier, who nodded. “Bond bites are known to increase fertility and kick-start heats. Especially if multiple bites are given.” She said, her smile entirely too knowing.

“Bond bites are no cure for infertility.” Geralt said, clearly sceptical.

“No, they aren’t. But you weren’t completely infertile to begin with; physically, looking at your internal organs, you have everything in good working order…” She argued, stirring her soup.

“But it wasn’t working. It’s not supposed to.” Geralt said, wishing that Yennefer would grace him with a straight answer _for once._

Predictably, the sorceress continued as if he hadn’t even spoken.

“Look – humans can have trouble conceiving too, _right?_ ” She asked empathically. “Even if they are in good health and all of their parts are in working order. Infertility is not black and white; there are cases where even the most experienced healers have trouble curing it, yet simple remedies can help…”

Jaskier found himself holding his breath as he waited for Yennefer’s explanation.

The sorceress smiled.

“Often the simplest cure is switching partners. Some people’s womb or seed is ‘picky’, it seems. It won’t accept just anyone; it may only accept very few people, in fact.” She turned her head to look at Geralt as she continued. “Perhaps all Witchers are like that – or maybe it is just you. We will never know, unless the majority of Witchers still living today volunteered to be examined by mages or healers – which I frankly doubt will ever happen! They would probably wish to keep this secret to themselves, I imagine…”

Geralt jumped up from the table at that point, having decided that he’d heard enough.

He could hear Jaskier calling after him, but he ignored the Alpha as he headed towards his room.

He was torn about what – no, _whom_ to believe. On the one hand, he wanted to believe that Vesemir had no knowledge of any of this, or that Yennefer was completely and utterly wrong...

Unfortunately, neither explanation seemed likely.

Geralt could never shrug the feeling that there was something Vesemir had _withheld_ from him, on that fateful day when they’d had the talk about Witcher’s fertility. Particularly, there seemed to be something _off_ about the way Vesemir had looked at Geralt when he’d said:

_“Don’t go down that path, Geralt… it will bring you nought but heartache. Trust me.”_

Geralt had often thought about it… the way the old Witcher had said those words: there had been a pained expression on his face, but he spoke sincerely, with the utmost conviction…

“As if he’d seen it before. Or lived it, perhaps…?” Geralt thought, musing to himself. “Damn it, Vesemir! What were you hiding from me?”

As he was thinking about this, a more urgent question was taking shape in his mind, banishing all other thoughts and concerns into the background.

_“How could you? How could you keep this from **me**?”_

He wanted to scream at his mentor in frustration – he wanted to demand an answer from him about this – all of this – right now! Gods, it was as if part of him was still that twenty-five year old youth, as if he hadn’t matured a day…

But he couldn’t help but wonder…

 _Perhaps_ , his old mentor had never expected Geralt to discover the truth about his “sterility”…

And that _thought--_! The thought that perhaps Vesemir had known that Geralt may had been able to conceive a child if he kept trying, but he had kept that knowledge from him, _by choice_ , was… making him feel sick.

He had always trusted Vesemir. Always. The man was like a father to him. His only parent-figure.

 _No_ – a voice in his head argued. – _He would have never caused you pain knowingly. Perhaps he had never met a Witcher who wasn’t sterile, so he wanted to spare you the pain of fruitless attempts… Perhaps he himself had experienced the hurt that can result from them in his past… He wanted the best for you…_

Geralt clenched his eyes shut, feeling very tired all of a sudden. He wanted nothing more than to go to sleep – but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep in such an agitated state. He needed to clear his head first; perhaps a bath would help.

Decided, he left his room and went to the washroom which had a huge stone pool in it, with perpetually hot water. Around the perimeter of the pool, there were bath salts and bath oils of every imaginable scent with healing or mood-altering properties.

Geralt selected lavender and chamomile – both known for their calming and soothing properties. He needed their help sorely.

He sighed as he felt the hot, steaming water envelop him as he sank into the pool. He had only just settled in when he heard a faint creaking sound and he saw Jaskier entering the room, wearing nought but a towel around his hips.

“May I come in, Omega?” The alpha asked slowly, cautiously. Geralt could never say no when Jaskier asked him gently like that.

“Yes, of course.” He said, closing his eyes again, doing his best to relax.

The bard made his way to the edge of the pool, climbing in next to Geralt carefully.

“So umm… care to tell me why you left so abruptly?” The Alpha asked quietly.

Geralt knew he should explain things to Jaskier, but he felt himself tensing up at the mere thought of talking about this… he surely wouldn’t be able to sleep if they had this conversation right now – but there was nothing to it; Jaskier hadn’t done anything wrong and he deserved to know. He sighed and was about to begin the story when Jaskier interrupted him.

“Wait, Geralt! I… you know, I want to know what happened because I’m worried about you, but I can see that you don’t really want to talk about this, perhaps? So, tell you what – you can tell me tomorrow. Or the day after. I don’t mind.”

Geralt was surprised, but also relieved at Jaskier’s words. He wasn’t aware how tense the idea of telling this story to Jaskier had made him until he felt the tension bleed out of him in the wake of the bard’s words.

“Thank you.” He said. “The ummm – tomorrow sounds good.”

To his surprised, Jaskier beamed at him.

“Yeah? Oh, that’s great! And yeah, I really don’t mind, it can wait – I mean I assume it can, right? It’s not a matter of life or death is it?” The bard asked, looking almost fearful.

Geralt snorted.

“No, nothing of the sort…”

“Ah!” Jaskier sighed. “Good, that’s – good.”

There was silence for a while, until Geralt spoke:

“You know… you don’t have to keep quiet – not for my sake. I think I’d sleep better if I could listen to your voice a bit… just… not about the fertility thing…” The Witcher said, feeling foolish for bringing this up --- _surely,_ Jaskier knew that he could speak if he wanted to ----

“Really?” The Alpha said happily, clearly surprised. “Oh, I assumed you’d prefer if I let you… you know!” He said waving at Geralt. “Do your meditating, or whatever it is!”

Geralt shook his head.

“No I – I mean I think I’m pretty good at telling you when to shut up…” He said, smirking. “If I don’t tell you… that means, I’m happy to listen.”

He wondered if he had created a monster by saying these words, because Jaskier looked thrilled.

“Oh, great! So --- remember what I told you about Temerian poetry earlier today? Anyway, what I was getting at was ---”

And just like that, the bard was talking about everything and nothing again, chattering away merrily. Geralt listened, like always, humming occasionally to show that he was still following him…

He slept like a babe that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet update for today. :) 
> 
> A special thank you for all the sweet comments left on the last couple of chapters, I really appreciated them! They inspired me to write on - so this is dedicated to you lovely lovely Readers! Thank you! 
> 
> I promise I'll update soon :)


	14. Coming to terms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier have a talk and Yennefer leaves to visit a friend in Aretuza.

Geralt woke next to Jaskier. He looked the other’s face, calm in his sleep, and the sight made him smirk: the bard’s mouth was slightly open, a dribble of drool glistening at the edge of it. He looked… like a small child having a nap. It was endearing and for a moment, Geralt couldn’t help but hope that their own child – the babe inside of his belly – would inherit this trait from the bard; that they would sleep soundly, with an open mouth, without a care in the world… He hoped they would.

As he mused, he listened to the steady ebb and flow of Jaskier’s breathing. It was soothing and it lulled him back to sleep as well.

They woke later in the morning when a maid knocked on their door to call them downstairs for breakfast.

Yennefer seemed to be in a good mood that morning. She was all smiles as she beckoned them closer, urging them to take their seats. The table was already full of various breakfast dishes: cooked eggs and fresh bread; butter; a selection of smoked meats and cheese; porridge; a huge tray of fruits, nuts and seeds and fruit jams of all kinds. There was also milk and tea to drink.

“Did you sleep well?” She asked, looking them both over. Jaskier replied something but Geralt just hummed, a non-committal sound.

The Witcher was deep in thought as he listened to Jaskier and Yennefer making polite conversation about their respective dreams and how they’ve slept. He was surprised to note that the two of them seemed almost friendly around each other now; even Jaskier – the bard didn’t even appear tense as the two of them talked! It seemed that having been around Yen for the past couple of days had caused a definite shift in their relationship for the better.

Geralt knew he should have been happy about that, but strangely, the situation just made him feel somewhat uneasy… he felt left out. A ridiculous thought!

Finally, when there was a break in the conversation, he took the chance to speak:

“Yen,” He started, voice still scratchy and rough from sleep. “I… We are very grateful for your hospitality, but – well, you must have places to be and things to do. We won’t trouble you much longer.”

Jaskier froze, looking at Geralt in surprise – they hadn’t discussed when they would be taking their leave, so Geralt’s admission must have caught him off-guard. Yennefer, on the other hand, just smiled, tilting her head in a self-assured way.

“I appreciate that you want to be respectful of my space, Geralt, but I can assure you – you are here because I _want_ you to be here. You couldn’t make me put up with you two if that wasn’t the case!“ Suddenly, her voice became more serious as she continued: “So you can get that chip off your shoulder. I am telling you now: you are _welcome_ to stay here as long as you wish. I know that probably won’t be long; but I am inviting you to consider it nonetheless.”

“Thank you.” Geralt said simply, returning to his attention to his breakfast of scrambled eggs and bread.

“How can you afford all this?” Jaskier quipped, looking around, clearly impressed.

Geralt wished the ground beneath him would open up and swallow him – Gods, Jaskier could be embarrassing with his constant nosiness and chatter… As if it had anything to do with them how Yen was earning her coin --- !

Geralt was surprised when Yennefer answered in a pleasant tone.

“Oh, I have my ways – contracts I take here and there. Money I’ve saved from the time when I served at Aedyrn’s court. But as for this castle, this was actually gifted to me by King Foltest, as payment for a particularly complex assignment I’ve handled for him; so it is mine to do with as I wish. There are no actual people living in this castle, all of the ‘staff’ is an illusion, created by magic. Yet the food they produce is real; because the ingredients are real. I grow lots of things on the nearby lands, the soil is quite good around here. I bought a few cows and a handful of chickens – so I have a constant supply of fresh milk and eggs… the rest is magic.” She said, looking pleased.

“Wow, that’s very impressive, actually!” Jaskier said, emitting a low whistle. “Right, Geralt? Maybe we could do something similar one day… save for the magical servants, of course --- ”

Geralt focused on his porridge, trying to tune out Jaskier’s voice. This was a conversation he was _not having_ at Yennefer’s dining table. They had exposed themselves sufficiently to the sorceress yesterday in the gardens as it was. Although Yen kept insisting that she didn’t mind Geralt’s new relationship with Jaskier… still, Geralt didn’t feel that it would be decent to rub it under her nose, by talking about their personal matters in front of her.

Thankfully, the sorceress changed the subject.

“Oh, that’s right, I wanted to let you know that I will be leaving tomorrow, for at least a week or so; to meet up with an old friend in Aretuza. While I’m there I’ll do some more digging on Witcher biology.” The sorceress said, as she waved and another bowl of fruit appeared out of thin air.

“You don’t have to do that.” Geralt said reflexively.

Yennefer just shrugged as she surveyed the fruit bowl, choosing a ripe peach in the end. She looked at Geralt almost provocatively as she spoke:

“No, I don’t have to, but I like helping old _friends_.” She said, stressing the last word playfully. Geralt grimaced.

“Oh come on, don’t give me that look!” Yen said, laughing at Geralt’s awkward reaction. “Maybe I like helping you, have you ever thought of that? Heck, I am interested to learn more about you Witchers and your supposed infertility after what has just occurred – I mean, you don’t see a pregnant Witcher everyday!”

Geralt could almost hear the alarm bells go off in his head at the sorceress’s words.

“Yen, please, handle it discretely – if anything gets back about this to the council or to other mages…”

“Relax!” She said empathically. “I know! Your secret is safe with me.”

Geralt let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding (then again he was getting winded more and more often lately – likely as a side effect of the pregnancy).

“Thank you.” He said simply, meaning the words fully as he looked straight at Yen, and she smiled back in return.

* * *

Later in the privacy of their room Geralt brought up the subject which (unfortunately) needed to be spoken about.

“Jaskier… yesterday, in the bath – you were right, there was something I wasn’t ready to tell you – but I’ll tell you know.” And with that introduction, Geralt proceeded to tell Jaskier about his old talk with Vesemir and his suspicion that his old mentor may have more knowledge of Witcher fertility than he had let on.

Now came the hard part.

“I need to go to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier, because I need to ask him… and I want to do that before this child comes into the world.”

“Okay,” Jaskier replied, slowly, cautiously. “I understand your reasoning and I respect your decisions; if you wish to go to Kaer Morhen, we certainly can, especially with Yennefer’s help; she could just portal us to Kaer Morhen straight from here perhaps-- ”

“Actually, Kaer Morhen is protected from all kinds of magic…” Geralt started to explain, but Jaskier just waved his hands.

“Whatever, so she could portal us to somewhere _near_ Kaer Morhen then! That would still help us out heaps.”

Hmm – maybe it would. This thought hadn’t even occurred to Geralt, he just assumed they’d get there as they usually did; trecking across fields and mountains.

“But,” Jaskier added, looking slightly tense. “And please don’t take this the wrong way – I am not disagreeing with you, but – well!” He sighed. “I really thinking we should take some time to prepare ourselves and – do some planning maybe? Before we set out to Kaer Morhen. Because, well – I -- I’d like to be ready to provide for you – and the baby! Whether that is on the road or in a house of sorts somewhere, I really don’t mind ---”

Jaskier was visibly fearful when he mentioned the idea of having a house, and Geralt felt a pang in his chest at seeing how careful his Alpha was being.

“That sounds… good.” Geralt said, feeling surprised by how much he meant what he was saying. “I think – I’m impatient to find out more, so I lost sight of… other matters. But you are right – we should figure out what we want to do before we go to the keep. It can wait.”

“Oh – great!” Jaskier said, face lighting visibly. “Great. So… and if I may have one more radical proposal? How about we just – kick back and relax for a week? At least until Yennefer gets back.”

Geralt didn’t reply, but his facial expression must have conveyed his thoughts, because Jaskier added:

“I know, I know you are not used to the concept of holidays, but – well, haven’t we earned one? I mean if we are going to have to figure out how to take care of a baby human – or Witcher, whatever – I think the least we deserve is seven days of rest… you know the myth, Melitele created the world in one day and then took seen days off, right?”

Despite himself, Geralt found himself smirking at Jaskier’s honest attempts at convincing him to consider his proposal. He sighed, still feeling unsure about this… Witchers didn’t get days off. Well, unless one counts the days in between jobs spent travelling… which, okay, that could feel like a holiday sometimes, but there would always be a suspense in there – the knowledge that the next job is probably just days away…

To take a whole week off… that would be the longest holiday Geralt had ever had.

Then again – he didn’t want to go out hunting monsters in his current state – not until he figured out whether being pregnant was effecting his Witcher senses at all. Not to mention that any information Yen may find in Aretuza may actually be useful – so it would be a good idea to wait until Yen returns at least…

Finally, he gave a defeated sigh.

“Okay. We will take the week off.”

“Yoohoo!” Jaskier was immediately jubilant at Geralt’s words.

“On one condition.” The Witcher added.

“Condition being?” Jaskier asked in his sweetest, most charming voice.

“If we are going to spend a week here, we should start figuring out how we will raise this babe – well.” Geralt corrected himself, mentally kicking himself. “What I mean is _I_ want to figure out how I will care for him or her. Whether you wish to be included is…”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said in a warning tone. “I've already told you that I want to be included! Period! That is _exactly_ why I think we should take this week to ourselves!”

Geralt still winced at the mention of taking 'time off'. It sounded so – self-indulgent. Lazy. Selfish.

Jaskier sighed, apparently not impressed with Geralt’s frowning.

“Look, Geralt,” He said, making sure the Witcher was looking at him, urging him to return his gaze. “With all due respect – you are not the best at sharing control – or responsibilities for that matter!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Geralt retorted.

Jaskier remained calm as he continued.

“I mean – like just now! You are talking about discussing our shared plans for this baby – _our baby!_ But --- the way you phrase it is – all ‘I’ and ‘you’ – when… we will _both_ be affected by any decision we make!" Jaskier huffed, batting the hair away from his forehead to see Geralt more clearly. "What I mean is… I would appreciate it if _you_ would give me more credit and ask for my input as well!”

Geralt felt totally lost by that point.

“But how?” He asked finally.

Jaskier bit his lip.

“Well – for a start, I would be grateful if you would stop implying that I might bail out on you – because I won’t, I’m here to stay! Can you do that?”

“I can try ---?” Geralt said, aiming to sound reassuring. To his mirth, Jaskier huffed himself up like a puffer fish.

“Geralt, I swear to Melitele—”

“Okay – I will.” The Omega said, smiling slightly. “No more – ‘if you are staying’. You are.”

His voice was strangely raw as he said the last words, feeling himself almost choke up with sentiment – and fuck, pregnancy hormones _must have_ had something to do with this, because this was getting ridiculous! He never used to feel half as many emotions in one day as he was feeling at the moment!

It was either the hormones, or being in a committed relationship with somebody and expecting their baby – one or the other.

Thankfully Jaskier didn’t comment, not even when Geralt subtly brought one hand up to wipe away the lone tear that had gathered in the corner of his eye.

“Good. And, “Jaskier continued with a determined expression on his face. “You will include me in the planning. It’s not that hard, Geralt! Just --- ask for my opinion! And I promise- I won’t force anything on you… You know I wouldn’t… And I’ll always include you as well. No making decisions that affect you, without you. Okay?” He asked, looking sincere.

_Fuck._

“That’s… easier said than done.” Geralt answered truthfully, scratching his head. He could feel the beginnings of a headache developing and he was really looking forward to the end of this talk.

“Why?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt hissed in frustration, finding it hard to decide how much to say – what to share or _not_ to share… but Jaskier’s honest face always had an effect of provoking him to spill, and this time was no exception, as he finally broke:

“Because I don’t like sharing – anything _that_ personal! I have learnt to be secretive, I have been that way all my life, and the few times I shared something of myself with someone, Jaskier – guess what?!” He said, with a slightly manic expression. “It almost got me killed!”

Jaskier seemed shaken as he took the Omega's words in.

“I – I didn’t know that – “

“No – course you didn’t! I don’t go around telling stories,” Geralt said, gripping his own hair with one hand – still feeling frustrated but sobering slightly. “It’s – not your fault.”

He sighed a long-suffering sigh.

Then there was silence.

“How about this then,” Jaskier said, softly, in a low voice. “I – understand that overcoming your instinct not to share stuff is very ingrained in you, but I would like to be told about _it_ , whenever you feel hesitant about sharing something with me – can you at least do that?”

Geralt grunted in annoyance, feeling totally and utterly confused by the bard, again.

“Do what?”

Jaskier didn't miss a beat as he continued:

“Tell me when there is something you don’t want to tell me or include me in. Or tell me when you notice you are holding back. You don’t have to tell _what_ you are withholding, just the fact that you _are._ Like yesterday in the bath,” Geralt listened on, still confused but intrigued. “When I almost made you tell me about Vesemir? But it would have been a shit time to talk about that, so I’m glad I didn’t force you! – But what if I hadn’t caught onto it that you weren’t in the right mood?" Jaskier gave Geralt a meaningful look. "I want you to tell me how you are feeling, so I don’t hurt you ---”

“I don’t know how I am feeling half the damn time!” Geralt muttered self-deprecatingly.

Jaskier smirked.

“Well, lucky for you, I also know it _half_ the time! So that covers the whole spectrum, right?”

Geralt couldn’t help but scoff at that.

“Or less than half.”

Jaskier patted him on the shoulder gently.

“Oh come on, you are not _that_ bad at it! Half the time it is!” The bard was still smirking.

Geralt felt a sudden pinch of sadness at his comment, although he knew the bard was joking. He screwed his eyes shut, as he spoke:

“A great damn mother I’ll make…”

“Oh, Gods, Geralt… of course you’ll make a great mom!” Jaskier said, hugging his mate fiercely. “You are loving and caring and every quality a mother could aspire for! And you cook a mean rabbit soup! That has to count for _something!_ ”

Geralt smiled at the mention of the rabbit soup.

“I’m glad you like my cooking at least.”

Jaskier hummed, slightly, still hugging Geralt as he began to rub his back and his tense shoulders.

“Mmmh, more than like it, I _love_ it.”

“Huh.”

Geralt felt some of the tension drain out of him and he let himself be hugged for a while, for once.

They spent the rest of the day playing gwent, and then having dinner with Yennefer, informing her that they decided to stay in the castle until her return - at which point the sorceress winked at Jaskier suspiciously. She assured them that they were welcome to stay and make themselves at home, then proceeded to tell them where they could find Roach in the stables and how to summon servants if they needed food or drink or clean bedsheets – Jaskier turned a very satisfying shade of red at the mention of that.

“But yeah, seriously – just enjoy. It must be a lot to take in.” She said, nodding towards Geralt’s midsection meaningfully. “You deserve a few days to yourselves.”

Jaskier looked over at Geralt smugly as if to say ‘I told you so’.

The Witcher just sighed.

“Thank you, Yen, that’s great. Is there anything we could do for you while you’re gone?”

Jaskier gave Geralt an alarmed look, but it was too late – Yennefer smiled broadly.

“Actually – yes, there is something you could do. I would love to have some venison to serve, but I can seldom find the time to go to markets or hunt myself – would you mind hunting some deer or perhaps a boar or two for me? There should be plenty in the forests, any which way you choose to set out.”

Geralt was surprised at the request, because as he recalled, Yen had never been fond of venison, but he nodded anyway.

“Yeah, sure – consider it done.”

“Great, thank you!” The sorceress said pleasantly. “I’ll take my leave now. I plan to leave early tomorrow morning, so I won’t be able to join you for breakfast, regretfully, but I shall see you upon my return. _Do not_ burn the place down, okay?”

Jaskier nodded eagerly.

“Yes ma’am! We will treat it like our own, or even better!”

Geralt just hummed in agreement.

This would be a long week…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again a chapter that was tough as hell to write... but I have a feeling that the next few will be much easier, so hang in there please! I am sorry for the long time between updates, I will aim to update every 3-4 days now, that's my new schedule.  
> As always, thank you for the lovely comments! I always enjoy reading them very much <3
> 
> Oh and... there may be some pregnant-emotional fluffy smut coming up in the next chapter ;)


	15. Stewing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt hunts and goes for a run.

Geralt spent the first couple of days hunting, despite Jaskier’s protests. The Alpha was worried about the Omega getting injured, but Geralt had assured him that he felt up to the task, and he wanted to be out on the fresh air more than anything.

It still took another lot of convincing to talk Jaskier out of following him on the hunt. If anything, the bard’s presence would have made the hunt a great deal more difficult and stressful for them both. Geralt knew what he was doing; and it was certainly easier to kill a boar compared to a kikimora; that much even Jaskier had conceded albeit reluctantly.

At the moment, Geralt was sitting on a clearing, taking a break and cleaning his swords. Next to him, laid out on the ground was the carcass of a large stag. He was finished with hunting for the day; carrying this back to the castle would be hard enough. Thankfully, Roach would do the heavy lifting, he just needed to heft the deer’s body up onto Roach’s back.

Geralt thought of Jaskier again and sighed. The Alpha was… sweet and protective but also _infuriatingly_ protective at times! He wanted Geralt to take it easy as much as it was possible, now that he was pregnant – although he was less than three months along at this point.

What the Alpha didn’t understand was that his protectiveness was making Geralt feel caged and cornered. With a body and physique like his, he simply _needed_ regular exercise to feel good – otherwise he ended up becoming grouchy and unpleasant, because staying idle for too long made him feel like shit. It was no accident that Geralt preferred to be on the road constantly. The physical labour of making and breaking camp, hunting and riding each day – that could get tiring, yes, but at least physically it made him feel good, an it helped him clear his head. That was the main reason why he never stayed at inns for more than a day or two. He need to walk and be outside; that was his happy place.

He was different from Jaskier in that way; Geralt had seen it first-hand that the bard could stay cooped up in the same inn without leaving for longer than an hour at a time for _weeks_. Geralt shuddered at the thought.

Geralt called for Roach and got the deer settled on the mare’s back. They made their way back to the castle at a slow, even pace.

* * *

Jaskier was starting to feel anxious. Geralt had been away since morning and it was afternoon now. He would have preferred if the Witcher hadn’t gone hunting at all – he had felled two boars the day before after all! Surely that would be enough venison for Yennefer?! But Geralt had insisted that he wanted to try and hunt some deer as well, since the sorceress had mentioned them.

Which was fair enough, but Geralt could still have taken a day off to rest…. Except, the Witcher claimed he wasn’t tired at all and insisted he go out to hunt again the very next day… which brought them to the now.

If Jaskier didn’t know any better, he would have thought Geralt was avoiding him on purpose.

He huffed – who was he kidding? _Of course_ Geralt was avoiding him!

Unpleasant as the thought was, it wasn’t exactly surprising. Ever since the talk a few days ago when Jaskier asked Geralt to try and be more open about his feelings with him, the Witcher had been avoiding him like the plague.

It was very in-character for Geralt, although Jaskier had hoped he was more mature than this… 

_Shit_ – Jaskier muttered as he tried to focus on playing his lute again for the umpteenth time but found he couldn’t. He was worried about the damn oaf, dammit! About him and their unborn child as well. What if Geralt would endanger himself on the hunt, simply because Jaskier had scared him away from the castle?

Would he be out hunting if it wasn’t for Jaskier at all?

Then again, Jaskier knew the answer: yes, he would be. His Witcher loved feeling useful – he would have fulfilled Yennefer’s request as soon as possible, even if it didn’t have the added “benefit” of keeping him away from Jaskier…

It was almost dusk by the time Geralt got back with Roach in tow.

Although Jaskier was bursting with the need to talk, he held it down. Geralt looked tired and he was in sore need of a hearty dinner and a bath; talking could wait.

* * *

By day five of their holiday, Geralt felt ready to crawl out of his skin from sheer boredom. He couldn’t use hunting as an excuse anymore – but what else was he supposed to do then? There was nothing to occupy him!

He had started by cleaning and mending all of his equipment: his armour, his swords and daggers. Continued by replenishing his potions supply using Yen’s laboratory; sadly, it only took a day.

Geralt huffed as he did his morning rounds around the castle. It was Jaskier’s idea that he could run laps, since he was determined to stay in shape. Geralt thought that sounded ridiculous, but then reconsidered it; if they were travelling he would be walking miles and miles. This was the next best thing.

After his run, he settled down in a sunny patch just on the outskirts of the castle, to enjoy some peace and quiet before he had to go in and be faced with Jaskier.

He had developed a bad habit of ogling his midsection to check for signs of a bump. There was still no sign that he was indeed pregnant, which was… a blessing and a curse as well.

Yennefer had reassured him that that was perfectly normal; he was still in the early stages of the pregnancy, it would take time for him to begin to show. Geralt had no desire to have a rounded belly, but strangely, a part of him wished he could have had a physical reminder that he was indeed expecting. So he could feel some sort of connection with the little being that was currently growing inside of him.

He rubbed his belly absentmindedly as he often did nowadays. He had noticed it that it felt more taunt than it ever had in the past; as if he was slightly bloated. There were no other symptoms to speak of; no morning sickness (thank the Gods). Perhaps a bit of tiredness – Geralt was definitely sleeping more than normal, and he had a voracious appetite – which he had noticed months ago, but he had thought it was a consequence of his increased physical activity levels – maybe it wasn’t.

As he stroked his belly absent-mindedly, he stopped for a while to try and feel for movement; any stirrings, any sign of life at all. But as usual, there was none; it was too early for that.

“I can’t wait for you to get out of there, so I can see you…” He murmured in a low voice – reprimanding himself immediately for being self-conscious although he was clearly alone! He coughed and forced himself to raise his voice to a normal speaking level before he continued. “I – I hope you are doing okay. I am sorry I didn’t take better care of you before – but I promise, I’ll make sure no harm comes to you from now on.”

A thought occurred to him as soon as he said that and he smiled.

“You have a very overprotective Daddy as well who is anxious to meet you. He is driving your Mum insane at the moment… although I know he means well.” Geralt smirked, and then his expression softened. “I hope you’ll have his eyes. He has beautiful blue eyes… not a strange colour like mine. Your life would be way easier if you looked like him… so I hope you will.” He squeezed the slight curve of his belly gently. “But I’ll love you no matter what. You can always count on me. I’ll protect you from anything and everything… no harm shall come to you as long as I’m alive. And I won’t give you up, no matter what. Not even to train as a Witcher – you’ll have to fight me if you want to do that without me around. I’ll be hard to get rid of! I can be obnoxiously stubborn. Just ask Jaskier.” He added, smiling bitterly. “But you know… whatever I do that annoys you, know that I’m doing it to make you happy… because I love you and I care about you. Although I’m crap at expressing it. So you’ll have to make do with Jaskier’s overly sentimental displays of affection… it’s not that bad.”

Geralt sighed. Why was it that even talking to his unborn babe, his thoughts couldn’t help but wonder to Jaskier?

Well, okay, he _was_ the baby's father afterall… and maybe Geralt hadn’t really been treating him well in the last few days… He thought back to Jaskier’s expression from that morning when he waved him goodbye as he was leaving for his run. The bard had seemed… stricken, almost. He was obviously sad about something but he hadn’t sad so.

Damn, this was frustrating! Geralt wished Yen was around so there was less of this suffocating intimacy around them. They couldn’t talk about relationship stuff with her around.

Suddenly, it occurred to Geralt that he was probably avoiding Jaskier precisely because of that; because he was afraid of other important talks they were going to have to have (Geralt himself had told him so!). Although the last talk, when he had told Jaskier about his pregnancy had went remarkably well, Geralt was still afraid that the next one wouldn’t. And he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. No amount of bracing himself could prepare him for what would happen if Jaskier decided to leave him after all.

They said they would talk about their plans for the baby. What if they didn’t agree? What if Jaskier would want different things than he? Even the very idea was frightening, because – well, Jaskier had asked him to include him in decisions.

Would that mean he would have to bend to the bard’s will from now on?

Geralt had known many a controlling Alpha who would have expected exactly _that_ from their Omega mate – he had to grit his teeth at the very thought.

But no – Jaskier wasn’t like that! _Surely,_ he wasn’t?

Geralt shook his hand and stood up; it was time to head back for lunch. He walked towards the castle as if he was walking into battle, feeling more tense than he would have been about having to face a pack of ghouls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am already working on the next chapter - it should be up much quicker than this one was! Thank you for continuing to follow this story :) Comments and kudos are appreciated very much as always!


	16. Boiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier finally talk and things come to a head.

Geralt’s fears were unfounded: lunch was a mellow affair.

Jaskier didn’t force him to talk then or later on in the evening for that matter.

When they were getting ready for bed, it occurred to Geralt that they hadn’t had sex for quite a while now. It had probably been over three weeks since they’ve last lain together – which was partly due to the nights getting colder as they were camping out in the Kestrel Mountains, no doubt.

However… he couldn’t just blame the dry spell on the cold.

Geralt was simply… not ‘in the mood’ for any such activity. That wasn’t unheard of in itself but he had never had to deal with such an occurrence _while_ in a committed relationship before.

But he guessed, he better try and deal with it, so he spoke up when Jaskier got under the covers next to him.

“Do you want to fuck?”

Jaskier sputtered.

“What?? Geralt---! You can’t just ask someone –”

Gods save him from insipid Alphas with an overzealous sense of propriety.

“Do you _want_ to fuck me?” He repeated, gritting his teeth.

Jaskier fell speechless.

“I don’t know – it depends – do _you_ want me to?” He asked, eyeing the Witcher suspiciously. “Because frankly, it doesn’t really look like it --- ”

“I don’t mind.” Geralt interjected, shrugging.

Jaskier pursed his lips at that in a way which annoyed the Omega for some reason.

“Well, thank you for your generous offer, Geralt, but I’m okay. Goodnight.”

The Witcher should have left it at that – Jaskier was giving him the perfect excuse _not_ to have to suffer through anymore talking or -- a lacklustre coupling for that matter --, but for some reason, he felt compelled to investigate further, so despite his better judgement he sighed and tried again:

“Jaskier, what’s your problem? You’ve never turned down an advance from me before.”

“Well I’m sorry!” Jaskier snapped, bolting upright. “Shame on me for having no interest in using my mate for pleasure when they are obviously not turned on in the least!”

“As if that’s a requirement for an _Alpha_!” Geralt said, snorting.

Jaskier recoiled at the comment, as if he’d been slapped. His expression changed.

“It _is_ for me, Geralt!” The bard retorted, sounding sincere. “I don’t know what sort of Alphas you’ve known before, but I’d appreciate it if you took the time to get to know _me_ instead of assuming that I am like them – because frankly, it is insulting! And I am FUCKING fed up with it!” The bard replied, all but shouting at this point.

Geralt couldn’t help it; the obvious anger in Jaskier’s voice was beginning to ignite his own ire as well.

“Oh yeah?” He snapped back. “ _Way_ to prove you’re not like the rest Jaskier! – Because you are _not_ behaving like a typical Alpha knothead right now – acting all offended because I dared to insult your fragile ego!”

Jaskier fell silent. His lips went white from the way he was squeezing them together…

Geralt was ready for the Alpha’s retort – he wanted Jaskier to try and defend his position, to drive him into the ground once more, because fuck it, it was _him_ that was the victim in all this! He was pregnant for fuck’s sake! The Alpha could go fuck himself –

“I think it’s better if I sleep in a different room tonight.” The bard’s voice was strangely toneless when he spoke, and he was clearly avoiding looking at him.

Geralt felt like he had been doused with a bucket of ice water. Jaskier just stood up, taking his pillow and his blanket with himself, while Geralt watched in disbelief. In the doorway, he turned back.

“Goodnight, Geralt.” Jaskier said, closing the door behind himself.

Geralt couldn’t help but wonder if he was the arse in all this. Jaskier’s absence… it stung in a way he hadn’t expected.

The worst part was, the Alpha didn’t seem mad, he just seemed… sad. Hurt. Like Geralt had hurt him. Geralt had accused his Alpha of being just like the rest – and he reacted by leaving the room rather than trying to argue with him.

Now that Geralt was starting to calm down, suddenly, it was becoming clear to him that he was in the wrong – Jaskier had been nothing but kind and understanding to him so far. Even his comment tonight – yes, it had stung that he rejected his offer of sex, because it made Geralt feel… undesirable and unwanted…. 

But actually, Jaskier was right – Geralt was in no mood for fornicating and he probably would have ended up calling the act off himself mid-proceedings, _if_ his Alpha would have agreed to it...

And yet he had still blamed Jaskier for their plight.

“Shit.” The Omega muttered to himself, rubbing his face. There was nothing to it now. He might as well try and catch some sleep, and he could apologise to Jaskier in the morning – _if_ the Alpha will be willing to listen.

There was a voice deep in his mind, which immediately whispered: “Why would he even give you the time of day?” - but Geralt pushed it aside. He hoped Jaskier would listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a pretty short chapter, I know, but the next one is up already! Please read on if you like! :)


	17. Weaving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt continue talking about the future.

Geralt woke feeling like shit. He had dream after disturbing dream all night, and although he had slept, he felt as tired as if he had been awake all night.

Nothing to it – he thought to himself, as he got up from bed, before he promptly sat back down because the room had begun to spin. It must have been a side effect of the pregnancy – he had noticed that he had developed a tendency to feel lightheaded in the last couple of weeks. He waited a minute for the dizzy spell to pass before he attempted to stand up again – successfully, this time.

He decided to go for a quick bath to calm his nerves before breakfast. He dressed himself in his best set of clothes – the ones he knew Jaskier liked on him, but Geralt disliked them because they felt too ‘flashy’ so he rarely ever wore them as a result – hoping it would appease the Alpha. He needed all the help he could get.

Bracing himself, he entered the dining hall.

Jaskier was already there, eating a bowl of fancy-looking porridge.

“Good morning, sunshine!” He said brightly, beaming at Geralt. “Did you sleep well?”

Geralt was totally taken aback by Jaskier’s cheerful demeanour, which was in stark contrast with how he seemed yesterday evening.

“Good, thank you,” He replied after a bit of hesitation, taking his usual seat on Jaskier’s right.

“Good-good,” The Alpha nodded, humming. “I’ve slept well as well.” He added. That much was usual: living with Geralt, Jaskier had created a habit of answering questions the Witcher didn’t even ask… to keep himself entertained, probably.

Geralt was looking forward to eating some breakfast, because dinner was a long time ago and he was ravenous – due to pregnancy hormones, no doubt.

But not even a minute had passed when Jaskier broke the silence to speak, again.

“And – well, being away from you, it gave me time to think…” The bard said, shrugging. “I’m really sorry for losing my temper yesterday —”

“No – wait!” Geralt said, interrupting the Alpha. Seeing the other’s alarmed expression, he quickly added: “Fuck! I should be the one to apologise…”

The way Jaskier’s face lit up in the wake of his words was almost painful to watch, and the Omega felt guilt assuage him once again.

“Damn it,” Geralt muttered. “You’ve had to start before I’d managed to get a bite in-- ”

“Oh, sorry!” Jaskier said, ushering in again. “That’s fine, we can talk afterwards if you---?”

Geralt snapped.

“No – that’s--- that’s exactly what I’m talking about!” He said, sighing defeatedly. “You always apologise before I can. You are – very understanding… even when you shouldn’t be sometimes and it – it confuses me.” He said, finishing the sentence lamely.

Jaskier frowned.

“How is it confusing that I apologise?”

Geralt glared at the Alpha, trying to judge whether he was trying to force him to state the obvious – but instead of the expected cunning, Jaskier looked truly oblivious, so he relented.

“Because… because I don’t deserve it. Not just the apology, but your… willingness to let things go – it…. I wonder when it’ll run out.” He said, looking away resolutely. Despite sitting at the table fully clothes and armed, Geralt suddenly felt naked and he wished he could stand up and leave – it was only his hunger that kept him in place, truly.

That, and Jaskier’s hand, as the Alpha put his hand gently on top of Geralt’s hand on the table in the next second.

“Sweetling, that’s not how it works! Forgiveness is not a jar you can empty… Besides, you are terrible at talking, so I must make some allowances to you! Otherwise I would have had to give you the boot a long-long time ago!” Jaskier added with a smirk, and Geralt couldn’t help but smile a bit himself. Suddenly, the Alpha’s smile grew sly. “Well – but since you’ve volunteered just now, I wouldn’t begrudge receiving a proper apology this time, if it’s still on the table...?”

Geralt felt tempted to refuse Jaskier as a joke, but the situation still felt too precarious for comfort, so he tamped down the instinct.

“I’m sorry I said you were like every other Alpha – it’s not true, you are not.”

Jaskier gave him a sweeter smile.

“Thank you, Geralt… that --- means a lot, actually.”

The Omega nodded.

“Great, now can we eat? I’m starving.”

Jaskier laughed. “Sure, tuck in! What would you like?”

For the rest of the morning, Jaskier was even more thoughtful than usual, bringing Geralt all the dishes he desired; pancakes with raisins and butter syrup, fresh forest berries, whipped cream and apples to name a few. Thankfully, Yennefer had thought them how to order things from the kitchen, so Jaskier knew how to ask for exactly what Geralt wanted, and he carried the dishes to the table himself, so the Omega wouldn’t have to stand up. (A sentiment Geralt truly appreciated, now that standing up made him dizzy more often than not… A fact he was carefully hiding from Jaskier – no need to make the Alpha worry more than necessary.)

After breakfast, they went out to the garden again, and to Geralt’s surprise, Jaskier proposed that they should go for a walk.

“To get some exercise.”

Geralt’s glare must have betrayed his thoughts, because Jaskier huffed indignantly.

“What? I’ll let you know, I _do_ value my physical fitness! How else do you think I keep myself in shape?!”

The bard went on talking about clothes fitting him and all that, but Geralt tuned out his ranting by that point, feeling content to just fall into step next to the bard, as they walked through the courtyard and out onto the castle grounds, making their way towards the forest.

Eventually, Jaskier fell silent as well. Once they’ve reached the forest, the sounds of chirping and tweeting picked up – sounds of life, all around them, coming from insects, birds and small rodents. Geralt listened to it contentedly, eyeing the tree tops where some leaves had begun to turn brown already; the first sign that autumn was approaching.

When they got to a big oak tree, Jaskier nudged Geralt’s hand.

“Could we sit down to rest?”

“Sure.” Geralt replied, letting the Alpha guide him. Jaskier made him sit first and then all but nestled into the Witcher’s side, cuddling up to him as if they were lying in their own bed.

“You’re really needy today.” Geralt said without thinking, although he tensed when he realised that his comment may be misinterpreted by the bard as criticism, potentially.

Thankfully, Jaskier just hummed in agreement.

“Mmmh, yes. I haven’t had much chance to do this in the last couple of days.”

“Oh… right,” Geralt said awkwardly, trying to decide whether he should apologise for that.

“How’s the pregnancy? Are you feeling any symptoms yet?”

“Mmh… okay, I guess. Not much, just – the hunger, and sleeping more and – maybe feeling a bit more up and down than usual.” Geralt said.

“Hmm, yeah, I’m inclined to agree with that!” Jaskier replied, and the bastard had the audacity to smirk! Geralt was about to tell him where to shove it, but the bard distracted him with another question: “What do you think you are having? A boy or a girl perhaps?”

Geralt had wondered about that himself.

“I hope it’s a boy, because I wouldn’t know what to do with a girl. But I have no idea, really.” He answered truthfully.

“Oh, I think a girl would be great for you!” Jaskier said, cajoling. “May help you get in touch with your feminine side!” He added with a bright grin, ignoring Geralt’s glowering look. “But my hunch is, it’s going to be a boy you’re carrying.”

Geralt hummed. “I hope you’re right. I thought it was a girl.”

“Hah!! So you did have an inkling!” Jaskier replied, triumphant.

“It’s just a hunch. Doesn’t mean anything. Odds are still fifty-fifty.”

“No-no!” Jaskier protested. “Mother’s intuition is almost always right!”

“Almost or always?” Geralt asked. “Because that’s not the same.”

Jaskier didn’t reply. They lay like that in a comfortable silence for a while longer, before Jaskier sat up and gave Geralt a look.

“Can we talk about our plans now? You know, for the pregnancy and for the baby?”

Geralt shrugged. Now was as good a time as any. He still felt quite relaxed, belly full from the huge breakfast – and he couldn’t help but wonder if this had been Jaskier’s plan all along…

“Great!” Jaskier chirped, propping himself up on an elbow to have a better view of Geralt’s face. “So – tell me what you would like to do!”

Geralt frowned, trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke:  
  
"Hmmm... I thought we could go to Kaer Morhen, to see Vesemir. And then… I would probably like to build a house of sorts. Like that cabin we had found in the woods, where we've spent the heat.”

To Geralt’s surprise, the Alpha listened attentively and appeared to approve of the plan.

When it was clear that Geralt was done talking, Jaskier spoke again.

“Anything else you’ve thought about? What about after the babe is born?” He asked gently.

Geralt hesitated, because sharing that felt even riskier than what he'd revealed just now. _In for a for a copper, in for a crown,_ he thought, steeling himself.

“I’ve thought about that, and I think… I may want to stay in one place until the babe is small." He said, stroking his belly absentmindedly. "It would probably be easier that way. I suppose I could live off of my reserves, I have some coin saved in Kaer Morhen. It should be enough to live off in a smaller village for a year or two, probably. By then, the babe may be big enough that we could travel again, and I could take contracts, earn more coin… That’s how far I got in the planning.” He said, finishing his speech abruptly when he realised he was rambling.

Jaskier nodded.

“And what about _my_ earnings?” The Alpha asked thoughtfully.

Geralt frowned.

“What about them?”

“You seem to assume that I won’t contribute to the budget at all…” Jaskier added, voice still carefully neutral.

Geralt snorted. “I won’t ask you to pay for me, Jaskier! I am choosing to keep this child and I can certainly take care of it –”

“I know you could!” Jaskier said gently. “And I know you’re not asking for my help – but I'm _offering_.”

Geralt was stunned into silence at the Alpha's words. Surprisingly, Jaskier let out an exasperated huff.

“Geralt, surely you must have noticed that I can earn coin as well? That I can pay for my share and then some?”

“But _why_ would you--?” Geralt asked, still feeling confused – the Alpha was full of surprises.

“Because I am your _mate_ , Geralt, and mates take care of each other!” Jaskier replied without hesitation. “Surely, you know that?”

“Not from what I had seen.” The Witcher replied, trying resolutely not to think of all the abandoned Omegas he had seen in his lifetime.

“Well, okay, _maybe_ you hadn’t seen the best examples of humanity.” Jaskier said. “As we had noted repeatedly, your impression of human Alphas so far appears to have been --- overwhelmingly negative.”

“Yeah, that about covers it.” Geralt said, with a derisive snort that was making Jaskier's heart ache.

The bard huffed.

“In any case," The Alpha continued, composing himself. "I am here and I am telling you that I want to help you as much as I can – financially, and in every other possible way as well; I would be happy to help you take care of the babe once it is born. We could take turns staying with them…" Jaskier shifted, readying himself for what he expected to be the hard part. "And that brings me to my next question, because so far it appears you've assumed you would be raising this child on your own, on your coin only and all – but, if I'll be there with you, we should have enough coin to do as we please!” Jaskier said, shooting the Omega a searching look. Geralt's face was impassive, but he met Jaskier's gaze. 

“I need to know, Geralt – did you plan to settle down in a little house _because_ that is what you actually want, or only _because_ that was what you thought you’d be able to _afford_?" Jaskier said, stressing the distinction clearly, he hoped. He licked his lips before continuing. "If I could pay our way and you didn’t need to hunt or provide, would you rather continue travelling, or build a little bit somewhere, or perhaps renovate a castle like Yennefer's...?”

Geralt couldn’t believe what he was hearing – the litany of choices was overwhelming. He zoned out, thinking about the possibilities, trying to decide if he preferred any of them, but coming up blank.

“Hey, Earth to Geralt!" Jaskier cajoled, waving his hands in front of Geralt's face annoyingly. "Are you still there?” 

Geralt grabbed Jaskier's offending paw, pushing it out of his personal space.

“You’re shit at dealing with pregnant Omegas.” He grumbled, although without much venom stretching his limbs and disentangling himself from Jaskier carefully. “I need another walk before I can answer that.” He said, hoping that the Alpha could understand the plea in his comment.

Jaskier grumbled but obliged him, and they began their way back to the castle.

They were almost there when Geralt finally took the plunge and asked the question that had been nagging him ever since Jaskier had brought up the planning thing.

“You keep asking me what I want. What do _you_ want, Jaskier?" Before the bard could speak, he gave him a strict side-glance. "Don’t give me any of the selflessness crap, because I'm not buying it! I want the truth.”

Jaskier shrugged.

“I have some preferences, I guess, although not that much, really – I hope – “ The bard said, trailing off a bit before a pointed glance from Geralt prompted him into continuing his explanation with renewed fervour. “Well! I guess I would like a house, and I wouldn’t mind if it was on the edge of a town or village - somewhere with an inn, so I could work. It would be good if it lay close to a busy merchant’s route, because then there would be more travellers passing by – more coin I could earn.”

Geralt felt mildly impressed as he listened to Jaskier’s explanation. It actually sounded sensible and reasonable so far.

“As for after the babe is born… I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to take up ‘Witchering’ again, if you fancied doing so. You could go out, hunt for monsters and I could stay at an inn and look after the babe. I would probably prefer to keep our house though – it may come in handy during winters and all that, when Witcher contracts are sparse. What do you think?”

“It sounds… good.” Geralt said, surprising himself.

“Oh. Good!” Jaskier echoed, smiling. “While we are still within ‘Honesty Hour’, may I also ask: what did you come up with? Anything you would like to do differently now that you know you have my support?” The bard ask sending him a furtive glance that was making Geralt uncomfortable, so he turned away. 

“I have no idea.”

“Geraaaaalt---” Jaskier goaded. “You need to give me more than that! Previous plan still good? Go see Vesemir, get a house, furnish it, have the babe, and either raise it there or start travelling?”

“Yes.” Geralt said, grateful that he didn’t have to put all that into words again.

“And you know that I’ll okay whether you want to stay in that house or not? Hell, I’d stick around even if you never agreed to get one! I may eventually get us a larger tent in that case, but apart form that I’d be okay with it. So please,” Jaskier added, sending Geralt a soul-searching glare. “Get that across your thick skull. It’s all fine. Okay?”

“This is too much insipid talking for a day. I shan’t speak to you anymore today.”

“No problem! I can speak for you too – now, where was I?”

Jaskier continued chattering away as they made their way back. It was almost dark by the time they entered the castle doors, so they had dinner, followed swiftly by a hot bath.

They were both exhausted, so they decided to turn in early instead of playing gwent as they usually did.

Geralt may or may not have been secretly pleased that Jaskier didn’t even _ask_ whether he could sleep with him; the bard had simply brought his pillow and his blanket back and made himself at home in the bed.

By the time Geralt fell asleep, Jaskier was spooning him from behind, and instead of pushing him away, Geralt found himself snuggling into the other’s hold. _No harm in doing so, as long as Jaskier doesn’t know about it_ – he reasoned to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this was a *heavy* chapter! I promise, there will be more lighthearted content to follow... the boys just really wanted to talk! I couldn't dissuade them! * - * But they are content now. 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated and adored to bits <3


	18. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier enjoy their last day before Yennefer's due back.

Geralt woke up the way he had fallen asleep: snuggled by a very warm, very content Alpha.

 _My Alpha_ , he reminded himself. _He is mine._

The thought did things to him. For the first time since he found out he was pregnant and this whole madness started, he felt… okay. Content, almost. Now that he knew what the plan was, and knowing that Jaskier was on board and willing to be flexible was strangely _thrilling_.

As awareness was circling in, he noticed a few things other than Jaskier’s presence as well: namely that the sun was shining, birds were chirping under their window. It looked like a perfect sunny September day outside.

As soon as Geralt moved his limbs to stretch languidly, he noticed another interesting thing: he was hard, for the first time in a few weeks or so. He was hard and horny. Gone was the bloated feeling he had been struggling with that had put a damper on his sex drive – so it seemed. No, he was decidedly… turned on right now. Slight pregnancy bump be damned.

And that helped him hone in on another fact: namely that Jaskier’s front was still pressed against his backside and the Alpha’s cock was rock hard.

The realisation seemed to have started a chain reaction in the Omega’s body: the way the smallest spark can ignite a huge pile of kindling, turning it into flames.

Geralt arched his back and moaned as his Alpha’s cock was pressed even more firmly against the meaty part of his arse. With the slightest manoeuvring, Geralt managed to arrange it so that Jaskier’s cock was riding up against his crack, rubbing deliciously at his already leaking hole. He swiftly divested himself of his breeches and undergarment, to reduce the number of layers between them. Regrettably, he couldn’t do the same for Jaskier, because that would have certainly brought the bard out of his slumber.

Although that idea was becoming more and more appealing by the second.

After a minute’s hesitation he decided that the deed was worth the risk. He peeled himself away from the Alpha in order to turn towards him and he slid down the bed until his head was level with Jaskier’s crotch. He freed the bard’s erection from its prison and sighed as the heady scent of _Alpha_ hit him. He took him into his mouth, sucking him down as deep as he could, enjoying the way the half-swollen knot at the base was forcing his jaw to stretch almost uncomfortably. _Big. Alpha. Mine…_

Jaskier mumbled something unintelligible as he woke.

“Geralt, what the… What are you---?” He asked, blinking blearily, before his eyes locked onto Geralt’s swiftly bobbing head. “Ohh!” The sudden gasp that broke free from Jaskier’s mouth when Geralt licked the head of his cock _just so_ was highly satisfying.

Geralt would have been smirking if his mouth hadn’t been full of cock.

“Oh, Geralt…!” The bard said breathlessly. “Oh yes, that’s brilliant! Just like that…! You amazing, beautiful creature! You’re perfect, _perfect…_ ”

Jaskier almost sounded pained as Geralt continued, keeping a steady rhythm, but adding or taking a trick or two here and there; just enough to keep the bard on edge and to keep him from coming too soon. Geralt had several ideas for _how_ he wanted Jaskier to come…

Regrettably, if he wanted to take things further, he had no choice but to stop his ministrations for a minute, so he could speak. He let go of the Alpha’s cock with an audible pop, giving the head one last suck before letting it go for good measure.

“Oh sweet Melitele’s tits… I won’t last long if you continue sucking me like this!” Jaskier moaned.

Geralt smiled mirthfully.

“Hmm… I thought we could try something different today, if you are in the mood, Alpha.” Geralt said, lowering his voice in a calculated way when addressing Jaskier, in a way he knew his Alpha _loved_. He didn’t have to wait long for the effects; Jaskier shuddered visibly.

“Yes, yes, anything you want!” Jaskier babbled fervently.

Geralt felt a shiver run down his spine and he tightened his grip on the Alpha’s thighs, looking up at him with a look of determination from where he was perched between them.

“I thought I could fuck you…” He drawled, in his deepest voice. “And then, if you’re up for it, you could return the favour.”

Jaskier gasped audibly, screwing his eyes shut.

“Yes – that’s – yes! Fuck, Geralt!” The bard keened as Geralt chose that moment to take his cock back into his mouth again as a reward for his cooperation.

“Mm…” Geralt said, humming thoughtfully, letting go of Jaskier’s dick again. “We’ll need oil to do that…”

“There is some in my kit!” Jaskier said, nodding wildly, eyes still tightly closed. Geralt stood up to retrieve the vial – he knew which one to look for, it was the same one Jaskier had used on him when they had first lain with each other – when Geralt wasn’t in heat yet and they needed the slick to ease the way. The memories made emotions well up in him, but they turned him on as well. He didn’t hesitate as he sank back on the bed, uncorking the vial with his teeth.

“Have you done this before?” Geralt asked, because he wanted to know, to be sure.

Jaskier hesitated for a second before he replied.

“Yes.”

Geralt gave him a meaningful look, clearly expressing that he wasn’t accepting that as a reply.

Jaskier sighed.

“Yes, but… it’s been a while.” Jaskier said, swallowing audibly. “Not since my university days. And never with a partner of your quite – your –” He coughed. “Size.”

Geralt’s smile was decidedly feral.

“Hmmm…” The Omega hummed. “You don’t seem… too concerned.” He remarked, as he gave Jaskier’s cock another squeeze; his cock standing just as tall and proud as it had before.

Jaskier sighed. “Well, I trust you,” He said, looking at Geralt through hooded lashes, blushing slightly. Geralt felt his own cock twitch to life at the sight, but strangely, he also felt a warmness spreading in his chest. Jaskier licked his lips. “And – well… I seem to remember having enjoyed this plenty back in the days…” He said, smiling mischievously.

Now it was Geralt who had to close his eyes because he was starting to feel overwhelmed by the sheer _hotness_ of Jaskier’s confidence…

The Alpha exuded sensuality and masculine energy even while admitting that he enjoyed taking it up the arse… Go figure.

And he seemed so – _unashamed_ about it. Geralt felt a pang of jealousy hit him at the realisation.

It took him – well, he was _well_ into his adult years by the time he had finally accepted that it was okay to indulge his Omega desires and be the receiving partner in a sexual relationship. Until that point, he would usually pretend to be a Beta and he used to lay with female Beta or Omega whores only. They would moan and swoon over Geralt’s dick (it had a nice size and a pleasing shape, admittedly), and while Geralt would get off, he would always leave feeling unsatisfied, empty: wishing that _he_ could have been the one to experience what the whores had just experienced; the thrill of getting drilled into the mattress by a large cock and having to do little except lie there and enjoy it!

It took him… decades to finally allow himself to hire an Alpha prostitute. After he had… he had felt dirty, yes, but also – blissful, calm and sated. The sheer satisfaction and peace he had felt afterwards was stronger than any lingering feelings of guilt – so he had never looked back after that.

To think that Jaskier, _an_ _Alpha_ , was able to allow himself to be penetrated by someone else in that way – was _incredible_ to him...

And also quite arousing if he was being honest with himself...

Geralt groaned, forcing himself to return to the present moment.

“Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable. We don’t have to go all the way today.” He said, petting Jaskier’s thigh in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

Jaskier _purred_.

“Mmmmh, I don’t think we’re going to have any problems, but I’ll let you know!” He said, winking saucily. “Now aren’t you always the one who urges me to get on with it? Get on with it, Geralt! Fuck me, you magnificent Witcher!”

There was an aura of naked admiration in Jaskier’s voice... and - not for the first time - Geralt felt amazed by his _luck_.

He couldn’t thank the heavens enough for having found a partner as... Amazing, understand and fucking hot – as Jaskier was.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. He took the uncorked vial which he had carefully set aside and poured a generous amount on his fingers before bringing them down to caress Jaskier’s balls, while he bowed down to take the Alpha’s cock back into his mouth. Jaskier was sighing and moaning with abandon again by the time Geralt’s finger’s ventured lower, circling his entrance.

There was little tension in Jaskier. The Alpha bowed his back and tried to press himself against Geralt’s inquisitive fingers. And when he breached him with the first fingertip – the sound Jaskier gave was one of pure worship.

“Oh!” The Alpha moaned, giving an experimental swivel with his hips. His voice dropped an octave. “Oh fuck – yes, Geralt! Yes, more, please…!”

Geralt couldn’t hold back an evil smirk as he teased the Alpha, giving him the littlest amount of stimulation possible. By the way he had one finger in, Jaskier was cursing.

“Fuck – Geralt!!” He snapped, sounding strained. “Stop fucking around – I can take it! Damn, fuck, _fuck_ – !“

Jaskier shouted suddenly, because Geralt chose that moment to slip a second finger into him, seating it to the hilt. The Alpha sighed in pure relief as the delicious burn of the stretch settled over him – it was good, but still not quite enough.

“Please, please, Geralt! I’m ready, I swear!”

“Are you?” Geralt asked sweetly, scissoring his fingers, testing the give of Jaskier’s body – and feeling impressed with how firm and supple it was, truly. The Alpha’s body was tight, but _greedy_ ; it seemed to want more and more of him and Geralt wondered just how many fingers he could stuff in there before it would get too much…

“Sweet Melitele!” Jaskier moaned, almost sobbing. “Geralt -I can’t --- please, please _please_ …”

And Geralt moaned along in sympathy – it was too much; seeing the clear proof of Jaskier’s physical desire for Geralt’s cock – feeling the taste of the Alpha’s heady precum on his tongue…

Geralt couldn’t wait anymore. He hoped Jaskier would be okay; he would just need to go slow, to stretch him gradually on his cock.

He let go of the Alpha’s cock and pulled his fingers out of him swiftly.

“Turn onto your front,” Geralt murmured sweetly, helping Jaskier to do so with a guiding hand. The Alpha hastened to obey, turning his back to him immediately – again, exhibiting so much _trust_. The heady feeling, the knowledge of the power he was putting in Geralt’s hands was making the Omega dizzy.

He poured some more oil into his palms and slathered his own neglected cock generously. He was already aroused and didn’t need more than a few strokes to reach full hardness again.

Jaskier began to hitch his hips back towards him, making desperate little sounds and fuck if that wasn’t the hottest thing Geralt had ever seen. He put his hand on Jaskier’s lower back, stilling him completely before he pushed the head of his cock to Jaskier’s soft, glistening hole.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” He said, surprised at how strained his voice sounded as well.

“Fuck, yes, yes, just put it in me already!” The Alpha demanded, tilting his hips to make the initial penetration easier. _Yeah, definitely not a virgin_ , Geralt thought fondly, as he lined himself up and pushed – in.

“Fuck!” Jaskier shouted, a punched-out sound. Geralt would have worried that he’d hurt Jaskier, but the Alpha began rutting back against him, chanting “yes, yes, yes”, so he quickly realised that it was probably a sound of pleasure rather than pain.

Geralt gritted his teeth willing himself not to come too soon – fuck, the Alpha felt exquisite – so tight and hot and perfect…

He couldn’t help himself and he began to thrust in earnest, leaning almost his full body weight on Jaskier, dwarfing him under his body and Jaskier’s moans just got louder. The Alpha’s hand’s came up to rest on Geralt’s hands, pulling them to his neck.

“Yes,“ Jaskier moaned. “Yes, please, put your hand on my neck, push me down, use me, _please_!”

Hearing the bard’s frantic pleas, Geralt finally understood why Jaskier was pulling Geralt’s hand to his nape, so he indulged him, pushing him down into the mattress gently – and Jaskier became even more vocal then, rutting back against Geralt fervently, with bitten off pleas of “yes, push me down, use me, fuck, fuck, Geralt! I love your cock, yes, yes, so good!” And then it was too late, Geralt was gone. The world narrowed down around him onto his cock, still engulfed in Jaskier’s delicious tightness and his willing, pliant body, grinding against him under him and he came groaning violently. He gave a few more rhythmic thrusts before he collapsed, no longer able to hold himself up – the orgasm seemed to have pulled all the force out of him, so he rolled himself off of Jaskier’s body weakly.

“I’m sorry…” Geralt muttered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t… couldn’t---”

“Shhhh—” Jaskier hushed him, leaning in to kiss his Geralt’s chest, caressing his nipples. “That’s fine… it was very good – now, did you mean that thing about returning the favour? May I?” The Alpha asked, pressing his fingers gently to Geralt’s hole, and Geralt wasn’t surprised to feel that he was already slightly wet – his arousal manifesting itself in this way as well.

“Yes, fuck me.” He growled, and he was surprised to find that he felt no shame in that moment – because this felt right – he was with his mate and his mate was going to fuck him and take care of him – just like he was taking care of Jaskier’s needs too --- it just felt right.

Jaskier groaned, grabbing the oil and pouring some onto his fingers to coat himself.

“Fuck,” He muttered. “I won’t last long, Geralt...”

“That’s fine, just get in me, _now!_ ” He retorted, snarling. Now that Jaskier had promised to fuck him, he couldn’t wait for him to make good on the promise- -

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait, as Jaskier settled himself over Geralt as he was lying on his back – pushing not one, but two pillows under his hips – and Geralt wanted to roll his eyes; too considerate even in moments like this – but any taunts he wanted to mutter were lost on his lips as his Alpha pushed into him in one smooth slide.

“Fuck!” Geralt cursed, flexing his back to take Jaskier even deeper. He grabbed onto Jaskier’s hips, trying to pull him even closer.

“Oh, God, so good, Geralt! So perfect! Fuck, lift your legs!” The Alpha instructed him, pushing his legs up, so they were resting on Jaskier’s shoulders and then Jaskier began to fuck him with slow, deep thrusts as he always did. It was good, it was great, but it wasn’t the rough buggering Geralt was craving at the moment.

He tried to force Jaskier to thrust faster and harder by pulling on the Alpha's hips…

But then suddenly, he had a better idea. Geralt smiled mirthfully, as he manoeuvred his hands lower, parting Jaskier’s cheeks.

“What are you--?” Jaskier breathed before the question was cut off by a curse, as Geralt pushed a single finger back into him.

“Hmm, not good?” Geralt asked, wiggling his finger ever so gently, face crinkled in mock-concern. Jaskier was stretched and well-oiled, so he knew he was unlikely to hurt him with one finger by this point…

“You cheeky bastard!” Jaskier cussed, huffing in disbelief. “If you have enough brain power for stunts like that, I must not be fucking you hard enough...”

“Mmmm, funny you should say that…” Geralt drawled, smirking.

The next moment, Jaskier finally gave a deeper thrust and Geralt’s face screwed up in pleasure.

“Yeah? Well, how – bout --- now?” Jaskier asked, grunting each word in between in powerful thrusts, setting a relentless pace.

Geralt couldn’t help himself; he moaned as his prostate was pounded, instead of the gentle teasing of before.

“Fuck – Jaskier!” He gasped. But still, he had enough lucidity to add another finger to Jaskier’s hole, so he had two fingers in him now, and Jaskier’s next thrust pushed them in to the hilt. The Alpha howled at the feeling, as he began to thrust between Geralt’s body and his fingers, fucking and getting fucked in counterpoint. Watching the pure, unadulterated lust on his mate’s face was too much for Geralt, and with a few more hard thrusts from Jaskier, he was coming, his orgasm all but punched out of him, as he keened and wiggled his fingers inside Jaskier even more.

“Yes – fuck, Geralt!” Jaskier wailed as he came as well, rutting back onto Geralt’s fingers and forward into his hole, before he collapsed on top of the Omega’s chest. “Fucking hell!” He murmured, sounding _wrecked_.

“Mmm, yes, indeed.” Geralt murmured, letting a lazy smile appear on his face.

“Melitele’s sweet-sweet balls…” Jaskier sighed. “You’re going to ruin me. You’ve already ruined me, for everybody else. I wouldn’t want to fuck anyone else now. Fuck.”

“Hmm, wasn’t it you who was supposed to ruin me for everyone else?” Geralt asked, feeling smug.

Jaskier chuckled.

“Hadn’t I done that already?” The bard asked, smiling up at him sweetly, head still resting on Geralt’s chest. The Omega felt a wistful sigh reverberate through him.

“You sure did.” Geralt muttered.

Jaskier beamed at the admission.

“And we haven’t even had breakfast yet!” The Alpha added, yawning soundly. “But I think, we both need a bath first.”

Geralt smiled, grateful that Jaskier had changed the topic.

“Hmm, sounds good.” He murmured, stroking Jaskier’s hair tenderly. Neither of them made an attempt to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here is the smut I promised! :) The story will continue in the next chapter with Yennefer arriving back, with some news... 
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, as always! <3


	19. Another Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer invites a friend along to help Geralt.

Yennefer arrived early the next morning – and to their surprise, she wasn’t alone.

“Tissaia was gracious enough to offer her assistance.” Yennefer said by way of introduction.

The elder sorceress smiled cunningly as she took in the sight of the Witcher and his bard in front of her.

She gave Geralt a level look she spoke.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Geralt of Rivia. I have heard much of your deeds and exploits.” She nodded her head towards the other sorceress. “Yennefer here has explained your situation to me.” Geralt couldn’t help but tense slightly, dreading the absence of his sword as his hand clutched at his side uselessly, grasping air. As if understanding, Tissaia spoke on quickly: “You have nothing to fear, she forced me to take an oath before she shared your… _secret_ with me. Clever witch she is.” She said, smiling knowingly.

Geralt relaxed a bit once at the reassuring words, although he didn’t lower his guards completely. He thanked Melitele for Yennefer’s foresight.

“So why are you here then?” Geralt asked.

“Although I cannot share your secret with anyone I am still interested – for the sake of professional curiosity, and also, because Yennefer has offered me some a handsome reward in return for offering my assistance.” Tissaia replied to Yennefer’s obvious displeasure. Geralt looked at the sorceress to check if what the other has said was true.

“I’ve also asked her not to tell you that,” Yennefer said, sighing.

“You didn’t make me promise under oath,” Tissaia shot back. “Big difference.”

Geralt shifted uncomfortably from leg to leg, listening to what would have sounded like a lover’s quarrel if he didn’t know any better. He finally worked up the courage to speak:

“Yen, I appreciate your offer, but – I can’t accept this --- ”

“Shut up, Geralt!” Yennefer retorted, making the Witcher look up at her in surprise. “I am offering this, because I am invested in the welfare of your babe as well. Or are you meaning to say that you wish to retract your offer of allowing me to be part of this child’s life?”

It was Jaskier’s turn to act surprised, as he took in the scene of Yennefer looking at Geralt with clear challenge in her eyes. Geralt sighed, shooting Jaskier an apologetic look.

“No, you know I never go back on my given word. You saved the child’s life when you removed the chimera’s poison from me; for that I’m forever indebted. So you are welcome to be a part of their life if you wish.”

Jaskier took in Geralt’s words, slotting together the meaning of them rapidly. He was surprised when Geralt took his hand, addressing him softly:

“I am sorry I haven’t told you about this, Jaskier. I’ve made a promise to Yen on the night when I first woke after the fight with the chimera; right after she’d told be that I am -- with-- with child.” The Witcher lowered his gaze, seeming to brace himself. “I – I understand it was wrong – I should have asked your blessing first, because the child is yours as well – I understand that now – but at the time…” Geralt paused, sounding hesitant. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want anything to do with this babe and -- I wasn’t thinking clearly…” His expression became harder as he continued: “But I’ve made a promise to Yen now, so I can’t go back on that.”

Jaskier’s gaze softened as he listened to his mate’s words. He took Geralt’s hand into his own hands, looking at him tenderly.

“It’s okay. I’m okay with – with that.” He said, then seemed to think better of it as he winced. “Well, I guess I’ll have to learn to tolerate her, huh…”

“ _Rude!_ I’m right here in case you haven’t noticed!” Yennefer interjected without much heat. Tissaia gave her a look, as if to say “give them a break”.

Jaskier looked at Yennefer, addressing his words to him as he spoke:

“Although we’ve had our differences, I – I hope you know that I appreciate what you’ve done for Geralt and for our child – truly.” He said, lifting his chin to assert himself as Alpha. “And I am happy to give my blessing too – I stand by what my mate has promised.” He added, giving Geralt a meaningful look. “I would never go against his word.”

To his mortification, Geralt felt himself blush – but more importantly, he felt feather-light all of a sudden, so he couldn’t suppress giving his mate a slight smile. He’d need to thank Jaskier for this later, when all this madness was over…

“I do not mean to intrude but I don’t have all the time in the world,” Tissaia said, drawing everyone’s attention back to her. “So, Geralt – would you like my help? I am offering to look at you to give you medical advice. I am a trained healer and I have assisted many an Omega with their pregnancies before.”

Yennefer nodded. “She is telling the truth, Geralt. I don’t have much experience in Omega pregnancies, so I couldn’t do this for you… that’s why I asked Tissaia. She is somebody I trust, and she has sworn to not to speak about your condition to anyone else.” Seeing Geralt’s hesitation, the sorceress added: “But it’s okay if you’d rather do this at another time! We could arrange for Tissaia to come back later…” Tissaia lifted one of her artfully groomed eyebrows ever-so-slightly at that, clearly questioning Yennefer’s suggestion.

Perhaps it was that gesture which had finally helped Geralt decide, as he sighed and relented.

“Thanks, Yen, in that case I accept it. Let’s get this over with.”

“Are you sure, Geralt?” Jaskier asked as well, squeezing his mate’s hand. “You don’t have to!”

Geralt sighed.

“I know, Jaskier. But - I’d rather --- know.” He said (croaked more like, the words coming out stilted and awkward). He hoped his brief explanation would be enough for Jaskier to understand his complicated feelings.

Because yes, Geralt wasn’t exactly _eager_ to have Tissaia ogling his belly and taking a look at his insides… But on the other hand, Geralt would _never_ have forgiven himself if there was a medical problem with the babe which he could have been warned of but remained unaware, due to his unwillingness to see a healer – especially when a trusted healer’s services were being offered to him on a silver plate.

Refusing Tissaia’s assistance would have been foolish.

But that didn’t mean Geralt was happy about all this… He would have much rather gone and hidden in the woods, but as a responsible adult, he knew that wasn’t the right choice under the circumstances.

Thankfully, Jaskier nodded at Geralt’s reply.

“Okay.” The bard said softly.

Tissaia gave Geralt a meaningful look. “So then, Geralt – shall we?” She asked, shoving the Witcher the way to her rooms – no doubt, another guest room, just like theirs.

Jaskier held onto Geralt’s hand even more tightly.

“Would you like me to come with you?” The Alpha asked, eyes wide and searching. “I’m here for you, if you need me.”

Geralt felt shame flood him at the implication that he may require such… _support_.

Still, deep down he was grateful for Jaskier’s offer, even though he would have never taken him up on it.

Geralt shook his head. “No – thank you. I’ll tell you everything after. I promise.” He hoped that his look could convey the gratitude he felt.

Jaskier’s hand wavered for a second, as if he wanted to insist upon accompanying him, but in the end he let Geralt go.

“If that’s what you want.” The bard said in a calm, pleasant voice.

Geralt couldn’t help but notice the tension in Jaskier – the Alpha wasn’t happy, that much was clear.

But it couldn’t be helped.

Geralt gave Jaskier a gave smile as he muttered a barely audible “thank you”, before turning to Tissaia and following her up to her rooms.

* * *

Tissaia motioned Geralt to lie down on the bed.

“This shouldn’t take longer than a few minutes and you won’t feel any pain. There is no need to undress yourself. I will simply take a reading of the state of your inner organs and your blood, like Yennefer did when she healed you.”

Geralt nodded tensely, following the sorceresses order as he laid down on the bed. Although the bed was soft and supple like his own, it felt like the most uncomfortable bed he’d ever been on.

“Relax. Breathe,” Tissaia said, lifting her hands, so they were hovering just inches above Geralt’s abdomen.

 _Easier said,_ Geralt thought, but he grunted in assent and tried to follow the sorceress’s request.

The sorceresses hands began to emit a gentle blue glow, and she looked at Geralt’s midsection intently, clearly analysing what she was seeing. Her brows shot up all of a sudden and she hummed.

“What is it?” Geralt asked, unable to help himself.

“No talking till the end.” Tissaia replied curtly, brows creased in concentration.

It felt like the procedure went on for hours, although it was likely no more than about ten minutes. Finally, Tissaia let her arms fall to her side, huffing slightly from the exertion.

Geralt felt like he was crawling out of his skin, but he restrained himself and waited patiently, until finally, the sorceress spoke:

“Normally, it doesn’t take this long. I took extra care to ensure I checked everything, and I tried to find some answers with regards to how this was possible –” She said, waving her hand towards Geralt’s midsection. “How can a Witcher be pregnant?”

Geralt did not like the tone of her voice – it was clinical but also slightly amused… condescending.

“Would you get to the point?” He said, snarling.

To his astonishment, the sorceress smirked.

“Well, I see why Yennefer likes you! Your nature is wild and untamed, just like hers.” She said, looking almost fond, before her gaze returned to him, becoming razor-sharp. “I am astonished, because I had never heard of or witnessed an event like this before. We, magical creatures have a strict rule: our power comes with a price, and that is sterility. So it had always been, and so it should be. So you’ll have to forgive me, but yes, this makes me curious… I wanted to find out how that was possible – and I got my answer.”

“So what is it?” Geralt said, letting his impatience colour his voice.

“It is like Yennefer told me.” She said, looking pensive. “Apparently, those who created you relied solely on herbs and potions to make you sterile – big mistake. In the Guild, we always use more – _permanent_ methods. Some have their organs removed, but at the very least, we make sure that the connections to the reproductive organs are tied off – so that impregnation or pregnancy becomes nigh impossible.”

She stood up and continued to speak while walking:

“You see – that’s not true in your case. Yes, the potions have damaged your hormone balance irreversibly – but as you can see, you are still able to conceive, although the chances of that happening are incredibly low... But _not_ non-existent.”

Geralt’s brows furrowed.

“So you are meaning to say that – what? We are not sterile, just badly damaged?”

Tissaia tilted her head. “Well – the two are almost the same. Your chances of conceiving again in the future remain highly-highly unlikely – although perhaps higher in case you try again with your current partner, since you are clearly umm... _compatible_ – “ She added, smirking at Geralt’s glowering glare. “But yes – it is not impossible, you could bear another healthy child again in the future.”

Geralt took a second to process the meaning of the words.

“Another _healthy._.? So are you saying, I am pregnant and the child is healthy?”

Tissaia graced him with a genuine smile for the first time during their short acquaintance.

“Congratulations,” She said. “Based on the babe’s size, you are about three months along, as the time of conception should suggest. I never tell expecting parents’ the babe’s gender or any such thing in advance – call me superstitious, but I believe in the old teachings which say doing so brings bad luck.”

Geralt shrugged. He could respect that.

Tissaia continued without a second’s hesitation:

“Everything looks normal, and as it should be for an Omega male pregnancy. Nonetheless, I will give you the same advice I would give to any other male Omega.” She gave Geralt a stern look, counting out the principles on her fingers. “No lifting excessively heavy objects or straining of other sort. You can do everything you normally do, but do not push your body beyond its limits. Drink plenty of fluids, eat as much as you desire, and get plenty of sleep. If you experience anything worse than mild spotting down there, come and see me.”

Geralt nodded. That sounded – easy enough. He may have to remind himself not to exert himself too much, but other than that, he was already following all the advice.

“You shouldn’t give birth alone.” Tissaia added after a moment’s silence. “You should try and come here, to Yennefer’s place once you are seven months along or so. Babies can come early and you don’t want to find yourself giving birth in the wilderness, believe me.”

Now _that_ he wasn’t okay with and he voiced his displeasure:

“What am I supposed to do around here?” He asked gruffly. “That’d mean I’d have to spend _weeks_ cooped up here, being in Yen’s hair!”

“How you arrange for your labour is none of my business.” Tissaia said primly, making her impending leave clear. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I trust you can find your way back.” With a court nod, she was gone, leaving Geralt to brood on his own.

It could have been minutes and hours, when all of a sudden Jaskier appeared; cocking his head at him cautiously through the slightly ajar door.

“May I join you, Omega?” He asked gently.

Geralt felt some of the tension drain out of him.

“You may.” He answered simply, making room on the bed beside himself. The Alpha followed his prompt and sat down next to the Omega without a word.

“I know I owe you a summary…” Geralt began, remembering his promise to tell about his exchange with Tissaia to Jaskier.

To Geralt’s surprise, Jaskier waved his hand at him.

“Mmm, actually you don’t have to.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Surely, you must want to know about how the babe’s doing?”

Jaskier blushed a deep shade of red all of a sudden.

“Umm, Geralt… Would you be very mad if I told you that I know everything Tissaia said already?” He asked, hiding his head between his hands as if expecting to be knocked over the head. “Because Yennefer may have taken pity on me and invited me along to spy on you too – in my defense, I told her I felt this was a breach of your privacy, but she said she would do it whether I came along or not---”

“So you went along with it?” Geralt asked, smirking. Truly, he knew he should have been mad that the choice to tell Jaskier was taken away from him, but all he felt was relief; now he didn’t have to.

“Yeeees…” Jaskier admitted reluctantly. “I’m sorry- I know it’s not okay…”

“It’s fine.” Geralt said simply.

“Oh. Great!” Jaskier said sounding relieved. “So about the birth thing… I am guessing that’s what has your panties in a bunch?”

Geralt was so tired he didn’t even bother to reprimand Jaskier for his choice of words.

“Yes.” He murmured.

“Well, Yennefer and I talked about that.” Jaskier continued. “We think – if you’d prefer, you could have the babe in our home – wherever that is going to be!" He added quickly, when he realised they hadn't decided that yet. "The sexy but scary sorceress said she could arrange a sort of… system for us. I think she mentioned an amulet that could be used to summon her when your labour starts, or something like that? I didn't understand all of the technical details... But anyway, she said she’d bring all the necessary supplies!" Jaskier said beaming. "Would that be any better?”

Geralt felt dumbfounded for a second – while it made sense, he hadn’t even _considered_ this as an option, because unwilling as he was to admit it, _if_ he needed Yen’s help it would have made sense to come to her place when he needed it.

Asking _her_ to go out of her way - literally as well as figuratively –.... 

That wasn’t something Geralt would have been comfortable asking for.

 _But_ apparently he didn’t need to, because Yen had spied on him – of course she did, he expected that much – and she was offering him a solution.

While he loathed to admit it, the thought of giving birth anywhere but somewhere he had built, his own home ( _his nest_ – his instinctive side whispered) felt wrong to him; so he welcomed Yen's suggestion.

Geralt sighed. “That – actually sounds rather nice.” He admitted grudgingly.

Jaskier grinned. “It’s settled then! We can go discuss the details with Yennefer later. For now, I think you need a bath: I need to cleanse you of that sorceress’s evil energy!”

Geralt gave Jaskier a look that clearly said he doesn’t believe that excuse for a second.

The bard threw his hands up in exasperation. “Okay, okay – I want to give you a bath because you look all tense and _frown-y_ and that’s the only thing that usually helps – there! Satisfied?”

“I’m not tense and---” Geralt began to protest, but he stopped when he noticed that actually, his shoulders were indeed quite stiff. “Hmm, I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

Jaskier smiled. “Glad I could convince you. Up you go!” He said, cajoling the Witcher to get off the bed and out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, Tissaia popped in to say 'hi' and stir things up... I hope this chapter helped clear things up somewhat, although I know the Witcher-fertility thing is still confusing... please bear with me! We will hear more on the subject when we meet Vesemir soon.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :) Thank you for the many-many kudos I got on the last one, I truly appreciate it! And thanks to my lovely regular commenters, you always make my day! <3


	20. A Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier take a bath.

They went to the washroom they usually frequented: the one with a large pool in the middle of it. Around the walls there were tall shelves with a huge collection of all kinds of bath oils, salts and soaps.

“Get in, sweetling.” Jaskier said, motioning to the pool. Geralt made quick work of undressing himself and got into the pool, letting the pleasantly warm water envelop him up to his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Jaskier walked over to an elegant shelf to pick some bath oils. “Any requests?”

Geralt scoffed. If there was one thing he had learnt about Jaskier, it was that the bard _loved_ selecting new and exotic scents to use. If it had been up to Geralt, he would have chosen lavender or chamomile until the end of his days – a tendency Jaskier had quickly picked upon and bemoaned.

Although he appreciated that his Alpha was offering him a choice, Geralt knew that it wasn’t _much of a_ choice at all; if he spoke earnestly, Jaskier would have been disappointed (because Geralt would’ve just said ‘chamomile’ again…).

“Hmm, whatever…” The Omega murmured instead.

“All right then! Something relaxing, mmm!” Jaskier seemed to vibrate with excitement as he looked all over, turning several bottles to read their labels before he finally settled on a few. “Chamomile, bitter almond oil and sandalwood.” He announced. “It should be a nice, relaxing combination with just a hint of sweetness.”

That was way fancier than anything Geralt would have chosen, but it had chamomile in it and it didn’t sound bad in all fairness, so he hummed approvingly.

Jaskier made short work of preparing the bath water; throwing a little bit of all three ingredients into the pool and stirring it with his hand, then adjusting the quantities to ensure there was enough in there, but not too much. Geralt just watched his Alpha working, enjoying the way Jaskier’s ministrations had made the water’s temperature more even.

When Jaskier was finished, he stood up and went over to the cabinets selecting a wooden bath brush and a washcloth. He came over to Geralt, settling himself behind him so that he was sitting on the pool’s edge; it sent a feeling of déjá vu through the Omega, jolting him out from his relaxed state.

“What are you doing? I can wash myself!” Geralt growled at his mate, moving away.

“Oh, come on!” Jaskier replied exasperated. “What’s your problem? You love it when I wash you. It’s one of your finest qualities!” The Alpha added, a teasing smile gracing his lips. Geralt felt his irritation lessen a bit.

“Come on…” Jaskier crooned. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling self-conscious again?”

 _Trust Jaskier to jump to conclusions._ Geralt sighed. “It’s just… I’ve remembered a dream I’d had. A long-long time ago.”

Jaskier perked up. “A dream, huh? What sort of dream? You never tell me about your dreams!”

“It’s… private,” Geralt said, trying his best to appear nonchalant. He was _not_ going to tell his mate about that ridiculous dream – it was far too embarrassing to share.

Jaskier was looking at him strangely now, as if he was trying to figure him out. Geralt kept a straight face, determined not to give anything away. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to deter the bard.

“You remembered it, so that means – I was in it?” Jaskier said, musing aloud. “Perhaps taking a bath with you…?”

Jaskier gave Geralt another assessing glare, and to the Witcher’s mortification, his face lit up.

“Oh, of course!” The bard exclaimed. “It was an erotic dream, wasn’t it??”

Geralt chose to ignore Jaskier, turning away and moving to sit in the furthest corner of the pool. That was, until Jaskier got up and sat down behind him -- again…

_The fucking nerve of him…_

Some of his irritation must have showed on his face, because Jaskier began to snicker.

“It’s okay, darling…” He held out his hands in a clearly placating gesture. “I’m just going to wash your hair, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything.” The bard murmured, carding his fingers through Geralt’s hair softly; and despite himself, the Witcher felt himself leaning back, relaxing into the Alpha’s familiar touch. They had done this many times, afterall…

“Sssh, that’s it…”

The bard took a dollop of soap and oil and slathered Geralt’s hair in it before he continued massaging his scalp. Geralt felt himself relaxing under Jaskier’s ministrations, despite the bard’s continuous chattering.

“It’s okay… I was just – delighted, really! It’s -- wow, sometimes I’m still baffled that you – want _me_ , and all…” Geralt’s eyes widened at the admission. Jaskier continued, oblivious of his reaction. “So it’s nice to hear… I’m chuffed your subconscious thought I’m good enough to dream about!”

Somehow, Geralt felt his resolve weakening as he lay there, enjoying Jaskier’s deft fingers working gently but thoroughly on his scalp. There was a long silence between them, and in the past, Geralt would have let the silence be; but now, it just didn’t feel _right_. It would have felt… dishonest not to share his thoughts with Jaskier, and Geralt knew he would come to regret it… _Fuck._

“I kept having this dream, when I was looking for you -- after we parted in the Blue Mountains.” Jaskier’s fingers stopped for a second, seemingly in shock, but he recovered quickly, continuing his ministrations. “I – it was how I realised my… feelings for you.” Geralt said, struggling to put his thoughts into words. Jaskier’s heartbeat quickened which wasn’t exactly helping either. “I knew I was missing you, but I thought it was just – your company and friendship… But the dreams told a different story. This was a recurring one: you giving me a bath --” Geralt trailed off, hoping he could get away without going into details.

Jaskier chose that moment to begin washing the expanse of Geralt’s back using the soft washcloth and plenty of soap.

“Mmh, did I –“ Jaskier leant in to whisper into Geralt’s ear. “Wash you… anywhere you liked?”

Geralt shivered at the way his Alpha’s voice dipped… sounding downright hungry. He remained silent, eyeing Jaskier curiously to see what the Alpha would do.

“Hmm… well, if you won’t tell me, I guess I’ll have to create my own version, won’t I?” The Alpha said teasingly, clearly picking up on the fact that Geralt wasn’t exactly adverse to the happenings… he just didn’t want to talk about them.

Jaskier began to wash Geralt’s neck, leaning in to nip at the Omega’s ears as he went. When he was satisfied with the job he did of Geralt neck, he dipped lower, dragging the washcloth over Geralt’s pecs, targeting his sensitive nipples.

Geralt groaned, but he forced himself to stay still.

“Mmmh, that’s right,” Jaskier said, murmuring in a low breathy voice. “Let me do my job… let me take care of you, sweetheart…”

Jaskier proceeded to wash each of his arms, his legs, scrubbing his foot and his calves. Then the Alpha prompted him to stand up, which he did, grudgingly. The air was a cool contrast as he stood there naked in the pool. The water only came up to mid-thigh so the Witcher felt quite exposed.

Thankfully, his Alpha must have noticed his discomfort because a moment later, his hands were back on Geralt’s body, and this time he used two larger clothes, using them to wash the back of his thighs swiftly.

“Sssh, it’s okay, it’s okay – I know, this is odd, but I have to make sure you’re clean, don’t I? Bend forward.” He said, using his Alpha voice; the one Geralt found extremely hard to disobey… _The bastard –_ Geralt thought, but despite his inner grumblings, he complied, blushing slightly as he bent his upper body, allowing his forearms to come to rest on the side of the pool.

Jaskier had easy access to Geralt’s neither regions this way and he didn’t waste a second as he washed Geralt’s cock and balls (perhaps a bit more thoroughly than was strictly necessary – giving his hardening his cock a few more passes with the cloth before letting it drop). Before the Omega could protest, Jaskier got behind him and he was scrubbing the dip of his back, his hips, the top of his arse… and then lower, washing each globe carefully before he manipulated the cloth to brush against his hole and his crack. Geralt couldn’t help the shuddering moan that forced out of him.

“I’ll have to sully you again after this I'm afraid… I can’t keep my hands off you, Gods help me!”

Hearing his Alpha’s wrecked voice made wonders to Geralt’s libido and he felt himself harden fully, although his prick was hanging untouched and neglected.

“See to it then,” He snapped at Jaskier roughly, his frustration catching up with him. Jaskier just chuckled.

“All in good time, my dear! We need to finish your bath first… Sit down for me, let me rinse you.”

Geralt didn’t even hesitate as he obeyed his mate’s command, dropping back in the water and allowing Jaskier to pour a good few jugs of extra water on him as well. The Alpha took special care with Geralt’s hair, making sure it was clean and suds free before he let him get out of the bath. (Probably an aftereffect of one incident when Jaskier didn’t rinse Geralt’s hair well enough by accident, and it caused the Witcher’s scalp to break out in itchy, painful rashes – the man had been apologetic to a fault after that, clearly mortified that he had been the cause of this – although Geralt had reassured him that it was okay. He had no idea he had this sensitivity to be fair; it was no one’s fault.)

It made Geralt fond, knowing that his Alpha cared so much about his welfare; that he truly cared about him. Jaskier didn’t _have to_ go out of his way and yet he did… He did it each day, everyday, in every way he could. He was his mate. _His._

By the time they fell into bed, Geralt was breathing heavily, feeling aroused beyond measure.

“Jaskier,” He rasped. “Fuck, I won’t last long---”

“What do you need?” Jaskier asked, peppering Geralt’s neck with delicate kisses and sharp little bites just the way the Omega liked it… it stole his breath momentarily and he needed to wait a few seconds before he could answer Jaskier’s question.

“Your cock, please. Just fuck me, I’m ready.”

“Mmmh, I’ll be the judge of that,” Jaskier replied, although the Alpha’s voice was low like a purr, proving that he was clearly affected by all this as well.

The bard’s deft fingers dipped down low between Geralt’s legs, finding his entrance with practised ease and the Omega was surprised to hear the other emit a startled gasp.

“ _Fuck, Geralt_ you are soaking…” Jaskier growled. His face scrunched up as if he was in pain. “I can’t---! You do _things to me,_ Geralt, Melitele help me, _Gods_ , I can’t---!” The bard’s cursing grew in intensity as he worked, trying to rip his own clothes away as quickly as he could.

Geralt just eyed his Alpha hungrily, trying to show his approval of the proceedings by flipping himself onto his hands and knees; showing that he was ready for the taking, that he _wanted_ this, he wanted to be mounted…

The trick seemed to have worked because Jaskier cussed even more colourfully when he noticed Geralt’s new position. He didn’t even hesitate to check his hole again, the next thing Geralt felt was the head of the Alpha’s cock pressing against him, and then there was a delicious burn and friction as he was speared open on Jaskier’s huge Alpha cock and he moaned unabashedly. He loved this part, he loved the feeling of being invaded, _owned_ ; feeling in such a physical way that he was being forced to accommodate another inside his body, inside his sanctuary. It felt like belonging. It felt like home.

“Gods, Geralt!” Jaskier didn’t give him any warning before he began fucking into him with forceful thrusts and Geralt groaned, approving whole-heartedly. He leant down with one hand, stripping his own cock with practiced motions the way he liked it and almost immediately, he could feel the pressure building behind his balls, the familiar tingle of his orgasm approaching.

“Hold on, Geralt!” Jaskier said in brief warning before he shifted behind him, leaning back, pulling his cock further out, so he could thrust into the Omega’s willing body with more force. The stimulation was _so much_ _more_ intense this way for both of them… Geralt keened, hitching his hips back to meet Jaskier’s strokes, but then it was all too much and he came and came and came, clenching around his Alpha’s cock violently.

“Fuck -- I’m gonna knot you, Geralt,” Jaskier growled, ever considerate, giving Geralt a chance to pull away, in case he didn’t want to be stuck to him for half an hour. Geralt couldn’t speak, but he shoved himself back, inviting Jaskier’s knot and hissing when it caught on his rim deliciously. That seemed to be the only encouragement the Alpha had needed, because he gave an inhuman sound, somewhere between a grunt and growl and he pushed himself forward until his knot popped in, howling when it did and it forced himself through his own peak.

Afterwards, they panted in silence. Geralt turned onto his side and Jaskier followed him, spooning up behind him with practised ease.

“That was… something else.” Jaskier murmured.

“Hmm, that was very good. Thank you, Alpha.” Geralt said, feeling languid in his post-orgasm haze. He could feel Jaskier tense behind him before his mate squeezed him into an even tighter hug, which Geralt welcomed.

“I love you so-so much. Love you. My dear Omega,” Jaskier muttered, nuzzling his neck and Geralt replied sleepily:

“Mmh, love you too.”

It wasn’t much. It wasn’t a grand love confession – it was just a few words – half a sentence muttered in post orgasmic haze, but Jaskier seemed fully content as he continued to snuggle him, all tension gone from his body. For the first time since this madness had begun, Geralt thought he might be able to get used to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter of glorious smut! The next chapter will be up later today with actual plot. :) Thank you for reading as always!
> 
> Also: Yes, I’ve shamelessly stolen the scent composition of an existing perfume: it’s called Mémoire d’un Odeur by Gucci. Jaskier is a genius, so he’d surely come up with something like this. 😊


	21. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Yennefer have a talk.

The next day they found out why Yennefer had needed venison when they witnessed Tissaia tucking into a hearty deer stew over dinner. There was plenty of it to go around, so Geralt and Jaskier helped themselves to some as well.

Geralt couldn’t help but wonder what the relationship was between the two sorceresses; the air seemed tense between them, yet they were both painstakingly polite around each other. They seemed amicable for all appearances (but Geralt knew better than to believe in appearances when it came to Yen).

After dinner, Jaskier announced that he was going to spend some time practising songs on his lute, because he "couldn’t afford to fall behind"; a sentiment Geralt could wholeheartedly relate to. He gave his Alpha an encouraging smile and told him to go ahead.

Geralt decided to use this time to seek out Yennefer - he had wanted to speak to talk to the sorceress in private anyways.

* * *

He found her in her chambers, lost in reading a thick codex as usual. The door was ajar, but Geralt knocked before entering all the same.

“Come on in,” Yennefer called, smiling shrewdly. “What brings you around here without your _mate?_ ”

Geralt smirked. “Isn’t a bit hypocritical to mock me for spending time with my partner when you appear to be in the process of courting your own?”

“Quieter, Geralt, for heaven’s sake!” Yennefer hissed, looking around in bewilderment. She stood up, making some haphazard hand signals, chanting something. From the ensuing quiet, Geralt guessed that she had just cast a sound-blocking charm of sorts.

Once it was done, she turned back towards him. “Okay, you got me. Not that it was hard to figure _that one_ out per se… Although I bet your bard hadn’t caught on yet.”

Geralt scoffed. “Jaskier is too wary of you to observe you closely. He doesn’t count.”

“Guess so,” Yennefer conceded, looking up at Geralt expectantly. “Well – you came here, I assume you had something you wanted to discuss?”

Geralt was dreading this moment, but he steeled himself. He knew what he wanted to say, it was just a matter of saying the words. He looked at Yen, trying to appear nonchalant although he could feel his legs were quaking.

“Yes, I wanted to ask if you could help us - hmm..." Fuck, how could he have fucked up already? He hastened to correct himself: " If you could help Jaskier and I - get to Kaer Morhen."

"Why?" Yennefer shot back. Thankfully, Geralt was prepared for this question.

"Because I wish to speak to Vesemir to ask him about – all of this,” He replied, making a vague hand gesture towards his barely-there bump.

Yen drew up one of her elegantly arched brows, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“Wow – is this truly happening? The great _Geralt of Rivia_ , asking for my help! And you are not even bleeding, mutilated or close to death! - Miracles _do_ exist afterall!”

Geralt rolled his eyes.

“That’s surely not --- “ He shook his head. “Nevermind. Yes, I’m asking for your help, because – well, it was Jaskier’s idea. He said the journey to Kaer Morhen would be much smoother if you’d help us, and I thought about it…” Long and hard, but Yen didn’t need to know that. “And I have to admit that this seems like a good idea, because the roads are treacherous this time of year – and the Nilfgaardians recent activity in the area makes me wary. I wouldn’t mind risking it if it was just me and Jaskier, but… well…” He grasped at his belly protectively, hoping to express what he couldn’t yet put into words.

He looked away, not wanting to see his ex-partner's reaction; he expected Yen to continue her teasing (that was their dynamic, Geralt knew it wasn't intended to hurt or anything) – so he was surprised when the sorceresses spoke in a tender tone of voice.

“Of course I’ll help, Geralt. It’s not a problem. Consider it done; whenever you are ready to go, I’ll help you get there.” 

Geralt looked up at Yennefer in bewilderment; for her to offer such a big favour so willingly! It seemed too good to be true. So he continued standing there in stunned silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop – for Yen to laugh and say that she was just joking, or demand something in return perhaps…

Instead the sorceress gave him a worried look.

“Are you okay, Geralt?”

The Witcher tried to hide his unease - with little success as far as he could tell - shaking himself slightly. “Umm, yeah - all good. Hmmm..." He realised a moment too late that perhaps he should explain why he was struck speechless, so he forced himself to speak: "I didn’t expect that to go so smoothly.”

Yennefer grinned. “Oh - well! How could I refuse a dear friend in need?" She asked, smiling at the Omega sweetly. "Of course I'll help!”

Geralt hummed shrugging self-consciously. “Well… I truly appreciate that, Yen. Thank you,” He said looking at Yen meaningfully. “Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you – besides hunting venison...”

The sorceress laughed. “Umm, yeah, no more venison! I think you’ve hunted enough to feed us all for a long while.” She stood up, walking over to a low table which was covered in various maps; Geralt could make out the map of the Continent and one of Redania in greater detail. The sorceresses' brows furrowed as she eyed the map of the Continent. “Hmm, I should be able to create a portal that would take us quite close to the keep. You will have to tell me how wide the protection circle is.”

Geralt nodded. “Yeah, that should be fine. It’s a couple hundred meters- if that.”

“Great. Sounds like an easy job.” Yen agreed, nodding. “And as for getting back – you may have heard the plan I had proposed to Jaskier earlier – I would be happy to lend you the amulet I've received when I graduated at Aretuza. It is a telecommunicator; quite a weak one, we wouldn’t be able to have conversations over it because the sound would be much too distorted by other resonances but it should work as a means of alerting me. The pair of it is that mirror over there,” She said, pointing at the large full-length mirror in the corner. “It amplifies sound.”

“Hmm. So we would need to store the amulet somewhere quiet, lest we alert you by accident.” Geralt said, musing aloud.

Yennefer nodded. “That’s not an issue; the amulet comes with its own box that blocks out all noises. You need to remove it from the box if you wish to call me.” She smirked. “See? It’s a fail-proof plan. No way you’re wriggling out from this one!” She said, winking playfully.

Geralt scoffed. “I guess so. I was hopeful there for a moment.” He gave her a small smile in return.

Yen’s expression changed and she looked more sombre as she spoke:

“Not everything has to be hard in life, Geralt. I am learning that the hard way… it took me ages to accept it, believe me! I know the feeling – I know what it’s like, to question everything, to expect disaster at every corner, to expect others to turn on you and stab you in the back…” There was a forlorn look on Yennefer’s face and she crossed her arms. “But that’s not always helpful. It’s especially unhelpful when one is amongst friends or when there are good things happening. Mistrust and hesitation has caused me to lose out on so many things… you were one of them.” She said softly. Geralt felt himself freeze in surprise. He didn’t have a chance to react to that because Yennefer continued swiftly: “Which is why I don’t want to make the same mistake with Tissaia. She is a good thing in my life. I want to keep her there.”

“Well – have you told her?” Geralt asked gently.

“Not yet,” Yen admitted, smiling bitterly. “You know me too well, Geralt.”

“I could say the same,” He answered smiling back at her.

There was an amicable silence between the two of them for a while, before Yen broke it with a sigh.

“Well, in any case – take my advice, Geralt: don’t let your instincts rule you. We, who see the worst of people mustn’t forget that there is also a wealth of good hidden in almost every one of them. Don’t miss the good searching for the bad that isn’t there.” She concluded dryly.

Geralt looked at Yennefer, allowing himself to truly _look_ at the sorceress as she was; she seemed… older. Wiser. Sadder – but happier as well. It was an odd combination, but he could feel that whatever it was... It was genuine. He felt happy for her that she was finding her peace, although he felt sad as well, that he couldn't be there to help her anymore.

“I’ll take your advice, and I hope you do as well.” Geralt said, nodding at her to signal that he was taking his leave.

Yennefer chortled.

“You and me too!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaer Morhen chapters coming up!!! I swear!!!!
> 
> Thank you for reading as always! :)


	22. Back to Our Roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier visit Vesemir at Kaer Morhen.

Geralt could feel his throat constricting as he walked towards the entrance of Kaer Morhen with Jaskier by his side. There were several reasons why he was dreading their arrival to the keep.

Firstly, he wondered if Vesemir would even _be there_ yet – it was late autumn, the first frost had not set in yet; it was entirely possible that they would find Kaer Morhen empty and they will have wasted a journey.

Secondly, Geralt wondered who else may be there when they turned up. While normally, he would have felt happy about the prospect of seeing his Witcher brothers, he had little desire to bump into Lambert or Coen for instance in his current ‘state’.

They would have been immature about the situation, no doubt.

Which was a problem, because hiding his pregnancy was not an option at this point: Geralt’s stomach had begun to bulge quite noticeably in the past couple of weeks. He now looked as though he was severely bloated all the time – and he _hated_ it. Although he had been yearning to see physical changes in his body (to have some tangible proof of his pregnancy), he had never expected the changes to be quite so… unsightly.

The problem was not the bump itself – looking at it in the mirror without looking at his own body, objectively, Geralt had to admit that the bulge itself looked rather sweet and appealing – he just did not like the way it looked on _him_ ; on his burly, muscular Witcher-body.

Thankfully, Jaskier had been very doting towards him recently – even more than usual, which was saying something. The Alpha had always been caring towards Geralt to a fault.

To his mortification, Geralt had to admit to himself that he was… enjoying this particular development at the moment. He was enjoying Jaskier’s gentle touches, the sweet nothings he murmured to him in the morning, the compliments he was showering him with all day every day (“Oh my, Geralt! Look at you, you’re glowing! You have no idea how beautiful you are, have you?” “Nooo, you don’t look chubby!!! You look gloriously pregnant – there’s a difference!” “For Gods sake, Geralt, _stop_ referring to your bump as “the bloating” – it’s the cutest little bump I’d ever seen!”).

Geralt smiled as he remembered Jaskier’s comments from this morning, and he stroked a hand over his belly cautiously. It was getting harder and harder to find clothes that fit him – hopefully, Vesemir would have some spare clothes for him; that was part of the reason why Geralt had insisted that they visit Kaer Morhen as soon as possible. They always used to have plenty of stock of Witchers’ garbs at Kaer Morhen, because in their line of work, they tended to be short-lived.

Jaskier had offered to buy Geralt new clothes, of course, but he rejected that offer immediately – the Alpha would have tried to talk him into wearing colours, no doubt. No – it would be better this way.

The other reason why Geralt was looking to their visit was his eagerness to have this over with; he knew he would be calmer once he’d found out about Vesemir’s side of the story – whatever the older Witcher would say.

Or he hoped so.

Geralt continued walking with a heavy heart, his mate trotting alongside him dutifully. They had left Roach in Yennefer’s capable hands back at her stables, since they didn’t plan to stay long in Kaer Morhen, and they only had to cross a few hundred meters from Yen’s portal to the entrance of the keep.

Jaskier seemed to sense Geralt’s discomfort as they were nearing the huge oak gates of Kaer Morhen and he grabbed the Omega’s free hand – the one that wasn’t rubbing his belly in soothing circles – holding onto it gently. It startled the Witcher at first, but when Jaskier gave him a small smile and a shrug and carried on walking as if nothing had happened, Geralt decided to let it be… It was quite a nice feeling afterall. The November air was chilly and his Alpha’s hand was warm; hand-holding was a practical necessity – he reasoned with himself.

As soon as they had entered the castle and stepped onto the courtyard, they were greeted by Vesemir’s smiling face.

“Oh, so it was you two!” He said jovially. “I could hear that someone was coming, but I wasn’t sure if it’d be Lambert or you, Geralt. And you brought a companion – what a nice surprise! Care to introduce us?”

Geralt realised belatedly that he was still holding Jaskier’s hand – a fact Vesemir had no doubt caught onto by now. He decided to roll with the situation, instead of trying to delay the inevitable – when Vesemir would found out about his predicament.

“It’s good to see you Vesemir,” He said, genuine joy seeping into his voice. “This is Jaskier, the bard I’d told you about before… my mate.”

Vesemir’s eyes widened almost comically in surprise.

“Your mate? What do you mean--?”

Geralt tilted his head to the side, showing off his bite mark without meaning to. Jaskier seemed almost as surprised by the turn of events as Vesemir, but he recovered more quickly, bowing his head towards the older Witcher.

“It is nice to meet you, Master Witcher. Geralt had told me a lot about you. I am honoured to meet you, sir!” The Alpha said all in one breath.

Vesemir put a hand on his own forehead, clearly still reeling from the news.

“My goodness! I don’t see you for a season Geralt and you’ve gone off and gotten bonded to somebody? Well…” The older Witcher stopped, seeming to reconsider his words. “I guess with the way you were always talking about this bard, I should have guessed you’d end up hitting it off one day!”

Geralt blushed, feeling at a loss for words. Thankfully, Vesemir took over again, patting him on the shoulder forcefully:

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order! Well done, you! We’ll have to drink in honour of this later…”

Jaskier coughed slightly, looking at Geralt meaningfully, forcing him to remember that he hadn’t told everything he needed to yet…

“Hmm, actually,” The Witcher said, looking away sheepishly. “I am also pregnant, so I can’t -- hmm -- join you in that…”

Vesemir stepped back as if burnt.

“What?? You’re pregnant?” To his credit, the older Witcher seemed rather quick about assessing the situation, looking straight at Geralt’s midsection to confirm the other’s words. Then, to all of their shock, Vesemir simply rubbed his forehead again, as he spoke: “God, I should have guessed we’d end up like this one day. You never were like the others…”

Geralt felt himself stare at his mentor in disbelief. “You mean – you knew this was possible?”

Vesemir flinched at Geralt’s words, seeming to have realised his error. “Hm, yes. I – I guess we have a lot to talk about. If you’ll allow me..” He said, casting a cautious glance towards Geralt. Whatever he saw there must have appeased him because he continued. “Oh, pardon me, for my rudeness – a grand host I am, forcing two weary travellers to talk about such serious matters before they’ve even had a chance to get some food and rest---” The older Witcher motioned towards the castle doors, inviting them inside.

“Actually, we had help from a powerful sorceress, so we didn’t really have to travel as such – we were portalled here.” Jaskier said, stepping in, as Geralt was still clearly lost in his thoughts after Vesemir’s earlier comment.

“Oh, is that so?” The old Witcher said, clearly surprised. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. But come on in nonetheless, I will prepare some herbal tea for you. Would you like anything stronger, Jaskier?”

Jaskier shook his head. “No- herbal tea will be great for me too, thank you!”

They went inside, following the old Witcher down long corridors until they arrived to what must have traditionally been a communal dining hall. There were two long oak tables with long stools on either side. Geralt and Jaskier took a seat at one of the tables while Vesemir walked over to the hearth which had fire burning away in it merrily, and placed a kettle full of water over the flames.

While the Witcher took his time making the tea, Jaskier took Geralt’s hand in his palms again.

“Would you like me to go? I can get out of your hair, if you prefer.” The Alpha said, looking up at him with soulful blue eyes.

Normally, Geralt would have asked him to go, but as it was, he found himself reconsidering his earlier decision. He was still reeling from Vesemir’s earlier response and he could see the guilt written across the elder Witcher’s features. The situation was making him feel uneasy.

“I’d prefer if you’d stay.” Geralt said curtly. He felt a tinge of warmth travel up his chest upon noticing his Alpha’s blissful expression; Jaskier seemed overjoyed as he nodded swiftly.

Geralt felt on his toes by the time Vesemir finally returned with a tray and three steaming cups.

“So…” The older Witcher said, looking at Geralt meaningfully. “I guess I owe you an explanation, ey? Would you like to talk now or perhaps later in private---?”

Geralt tightened his hold on Jaskier’s fingers.

“Jaskier can stay. I want him to hear this too.” Geralt said brusquely.

Vesemir nodded. “Very well.” He paused for a second, looking at Geralt before he began. “You have to understand, I was woefully ill-prepared for teaching you all about the ways of life, like say, a father would. I had never expected to have to look after a child - much less look after a handful of them! Then you all started growing up, you grew up so quickly and you presented, and you, Geralt, turned out to be an Omega… I have to admit, I was shocked. I’d never heard of an Omega Witcher before. I was determined to treat you the same all the others – the same as I treated Eskel, Aubry and the others before you… So I gave you the same talk I gave them… But deep down I knew it wasn’t right.” The older Witcher added, sighing.

“Of course, it wasn’t fair to any of you – but especially, to _you_ , Geralt. When you so clearly expressed the desire to raise a child of your own one day…” He sighed heavily. “I _should_ have told you that there could be a way! I should have. But - I guess I was afraid – I was afraid of the consequences if word got out about it that I shared this secret knowledge; that there was a flaw in our methods and some of us could produce offspring. I was also afraid for you, in case that happened – what if the Council got a whiff of it and they’d hunt you down no doubt?” Vesemir scowled. “But more than anything… I was self-centered; I thought of my own life and I wanted to spare you from the pain I’d gone through.” He looked up, eyeing Geralt wearily. “There’s something I never told any of your brothers. I used to have a mate… she was the love of my life. She was a nobleman’s wife, but she was set on leaving him, I had nothing to do with that. We fell deeply, madly in love – I was young back then. We consummated our love, we bonded each other, and she fell pregnant. That’s how I found out that it was possible for our kind to impregnate others.”

Vesemir sighed, taking a sip of his tea.

“But nothing came out of it. She miscarried the babe. This happened a few more times before we agreed never to try again. We still loved each other but the grief over the babes we’d lost had hardened our hearts… I blamed myself, and I was convinced it was because of my seed that the pregnancies just wouldn’t stick. So I broke her heart and left her. I never saw her again.” The old Witcher’s voice tightened as he continued. “I heard she remarried, but she never had pups. That’s all I know.” Vesemir said, voice ringing with a note of finality.

Geralt felt rooted to the spot, mind whirling as he tried to process all Vesemir had just said. The implication that the Council of Mages needed to be kept unaware, but apparently some of the Witcher elders had been aware that Witchers were not all completely sterile…

He was startled out of his thoughts when Vesemir stood.

“Well – I understand if you need some time to yourselves… you can call for me if you need anything,” The Witcher said, looking pensive for a second before adding. “And if you want to leave – I understand. Farewell until we meet again.” Vesemir smiled sadly turning to leave, before Geralt grabbed his hand, pulling him back to sit.

“Give me a moment to process, Vesemir, damn it!” He snapped, perhaps a touch more forcefully than was necessary. The words had their intended effect, because Vesemir sank back into his seat promptly.

Geralt rubbed over his face, trying to clear his head.

“Who knows about all this?” The Omega asked, turning towards his mentor again.

“What do you mean?” Vesemir asked back, face pinched. “The story of my failed love--?”

“No, the fact that Witchers aren’t all sterile.” Geralt said, mentally kicking himself for confusing the poor old Witcher.

“Oh! Hmm, that’s hard to say. I wasn’t told as a young Witcher, I found out about it myself – much like you had to.” He said, wincing. “I only ever told one person: Barmin, my old mentor and tutor. He was shocked and he advised me to keep it a secret, lest it got back to the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. I saw reason in his advice, so I kept it quiet. Then came the assault on Kaer Morhen that killed all the mages who knew the secrets of the mutations. Since there won’t be any more Witchers, I thought this was a moot point anyway. I was wrong, of course.”

“Hmm.” Geralt grunted, taking in the new knowledge, considering Vesemir’s words carefully. “So… you didn’t know about it either.”

Vesemir shook his head. “Well – I knew what I preached wasn’t the complete truth; that we weren’t all sterile. I _should_ have told you, by all rights…”

Geralt smiled, looking up at his old mentor fondly. “You were doing what you thought was best for me. I forgive you.”

Vesemir’s eyes became suspiciously shiny and he nodded tightly.

“Thank you, Geralt. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you all this sooner… but… if you can – forgive this old fool… I didn’t know any better…”

Seeing Vesemir so close to tears brought up a hot choking sensation in Geralt’s throat as well, and he felt his fingers itching to reach out – to soothe the old Witcher’s distress… Unexpectedly, he felt Jaskier disentangle their hand, the Alpha smiling softly as he pushed Geralt’s hand towards Vesemir’s on the table. Geralt grabbed his mentor’s hand before he could have talked himself out of it. Vesemir’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away; he tightened his grip on Geralt’s hand.

“I forgive you…” Geralt murmured again, because he could not think of any other words to say.

“Thank you, Geralt. Thank you,” Vesemir said softly, earnestly. He straightened himself a bit in his chair, leaning back to look at Geralt and Jaskier both. “And congratulations to both of you again! I am so happy for you. I’m glad I didn’t… ruin all this. You found your way through.”

Geralt tightened his hold on Vesemir’s hand, feeling his heart twist at the old Witcher’s self-depreciating comments.

“You did no such thing. It was my fault as much as yours; I was hesitant to allow myself to need someone else, to be so vulnerable with my feelings…” He glanced over at Jaskier, smiling fondly when he saw that his Alpha was blinking back tears as well. “But thankfully, my Alpha was strong enough for the both of us. He loved me and waited on me until I was ready to love him back.”

“Oh, Geralt…!” Jaskier uttered, choked, hugging his mate.

“I hope I’ll have a chance to get to know you better one day, Jaskier. Even just from looking at you, I can tell that you are the perfect match for Geralt; you are good for each other.” The old Witcher said, looking at them fondly. “Don’t make the mistakes I made – whatever difficulties life may throw at you, take them on together. Never forget that you are a team. Put aside your differences and don’t be too proud to ask for help and forgiveness if you need it.”

Geralt felt his tears beginning to fall at his mentor’s words, feeling the way Jaskier was hugging him even more tightly. He looked up at Vesemir, giving him a watery smile before he turned to Jaskier, kissing him on the forehead chastely.

Suddenly, there was a strange feeling in his abdomen -- Geralt felt surprise strike him and he almost forgot how to breathe for a moment.

“Jaskier, the babe!” He said wildly, grabbing Jaskier’s hand and guiding it to his belly quickly, all but tearing his shirt in the process as he struggled to fit his mate’s hand under it. “Can you feel it?!”

For the first time, Geralt was sure he had felt the babe move. Jaskier had been asking him to feel the baby move for weeks and weeks now… but when it did, it was just a sort of week fluttery feeling, which was sometimes hard to notice, even for Geralt.

But this – just now – it had felt different! It felt like a strong movement. A little… kick perhaps?

Jaskier’s eyes widened and he let Geralt’s hand guide his own as it pressed to the underside of his bump. There were a few seconds of nervous tension – even Vesemir had gone absolutely still as well, watching the pair in anxious anticipation.

Jaskier’s eyes widened.

“Oh, sweet Melitele, I can feel it Geralt! I _can!_ ”

Geralt could feel it as well – it was almost as if the babe wanted to show off, wiggling even more fiercely now that his father’s hand was pressing against him gently from the outside.

They stayed like that, basking in the wonder of this significant moment for a long time until all their teas had gone cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, all the feels came out in this chapter :') !! I hope you enjoyed my take on Vesemir's character. I tried my best to do him justice. He seems like such a lovely, jovial character in the games... I wanted to capture that in this adaptation.   
> Thank you all for your patience, I am sorry my updates are coming weekly, although I'm doing my best to update bi-weekly at least... well, I guess I have to accept it may not happen sometimes.   
> I hope you are all well, stay safe in these corona times. <3 Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for me pregnant Geralt adventures coming soon :)


	23. A New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier begin planning their move.

Geralt would have liked to stay at Kaer Morhen for a while – to spend some time in a place he used to call ‘home’; to catch up with Vesemir; to help the old Witcher stock up supplies for winter; and of course, to wait for the others to arrive – having experienced Vesemir’s favourable reaction to finding out about his pregnancy, the prospect of sharing the news with his brothers did not seem as daunting anymore.

It would not have been right however, to stay there when they had a home to find (or build, possibly) and many other things to sort out before the babe arrived. Even the mere thought made Geralt’s stomach churn.

So they bid farewell to Vesemir. The old Witcher made them promise they’d come visit next winter, when he babe was a bit older.

It was actually frightening how quickly his mentor realised that Jaskier was the key to manipulating him effectively.

“Don’t let Geralt cancel the plans for visiting here next winter under any circumstances,” Vesemir muttered leaning in to whisper into Jaskier’s ear. “He’ll try – oh he definitely will! He’ll say, “you’d be burdening me” or that “a babe’s too noisy to be kept in the keep” and other such nonsense… Just remind him that he promised me, that should do the trick. He’s got a good heart, deep down, he’s always been soft like a new-born babe.” Vesemir added chucking fondly.

“I can hear you,” Geralt murmured impassively.

They acted as if they had not heard him and Jaskier patted Vesemir’s shoulder enthusiastically.

“Never worry – I’ll make sure we come and visit if it’s the last thing I do!”

“It may very well be if you try,” Geralt said darkly. To his indignation, they both laughed.

Remembering that reminded him that keeping their visit short and sweet was not such a bad idea perhaps after all.

* * *

The next month or so went by in a flash. Geralt’s stomach grew rounder and heavier – it definitely looked like a proper pregnant belly now, and it couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

Geralt couldn’t wear his old breeches, under-tunics or chemises anymore, because none of them would fit – a fact that dismayed him, despite the fact that Jaskier kept reminding him that this was all normal and “to be expected” (“ _Really Geralt, did you expect to grow a human being inside of you without gaining an ounce?! Quit whining, you dolt!_ ”).

Thankfully, the clothes Vesemir had insisted on passing down to him fit him well. They were huge and hang a bit loosely on his frame, but they were made of soft materials and they did the job. Jaskier had even found a way of draping them so they fit Geralt better.

The only problem they could not fix was the question of Geralt’s armour, which _definitely_ did not fit him anymore. Jaskier was adamant that he should not do any jobs without it, and Geralt had to concede that was a sensible request, so he agreed to give up on taking any Witcher contracts until they could remedy the armour-issue.

Which gave him a lot of time to ponder about the most pressing issue: that of deciding where they wanted to settle down for the time being.

Infuriatingly, Jaskier was little help in that matter, because the Alpha just kept parroting the same noble clichés: “ _you make the choice, you’re the Omega”_ and so on…

They were currently staying at a little inn in Vizima, where they had agreed to remain until they’ve decided where they wanted to make their home. Jaskier was playing at various inns and pubs all over town and he was earning well enough that they could easily pay for the room and food for two (or three, really) and still had some coin left over, which Jaskier decided to start putting aside calling it “the babe’s fund” – money they could use to buy supplies for the babe when the time came.

That was all well and good, but Geralt was itching for them to finally get moving – his pregnant belly wasn’t getting any lighter and he wanted their house to be finished before the birth of their child.

And Jaskier really wasn’t helping.

“I’ve already told you, Geralt: I _truly_ don’t mind,” Jaskier said again, for the umpteenth time. “Just tell me where you’d like to live, and what sort of house you want; it isn’t that hard!”

Geralt couldn’t help it; he snapped.

“Well, _thank you_ very much for leaving the responsibility of choosing our future home to me, when there is a war raging outside and I haven’t the faintest idea where is safe and where isn’t!” He all but shouted at Jaskier from the sheer amount of frustration welling up in him.

Jaskier had the decency to look a bit put out at that.

“Oh. I had no idea you were hesitating because of that… all right, I’ll help. Let’s decide together.”

Geralt restrained himself from reacting with a sarcastic “finally”, opting instead for an annoyed grunt.

They narrowed their options down: nowhere near Sodden or Cintra, where the Nilfgaardian army was currently stationed. It was reasonable to expect that Nilfgaard would continue to conquer new territories until it was stopped; and they were clearly heading North, so the North wasn’t safe either (this included Kaer Morhen – a thought that worried Geralt considerably, but he tried to remind himself that Vesemir was shrewd and there were plenty of other Witchers he could call upon to protect the keep other than Geralt if need be).

Their best shot at avoiding being caught in a war zone would be to stay on territories _already_ conquered; which meant getting out of Temeria as soon as they could, because the war was surely coming here next.

Geralt just could not think of a place that would have met all of their requirements: it needed to be close to a major city (like Vizima) so Jaskier could earn their coin easily by playing at various inns throughout the year; but it also needed to have lands fit for agriculture, so they could lower their costs by raising livestock and growing their own fruit and vegetables perhaps; so anything south of Mettina was out of the question really (Geralt had _no wish_ to live in a desert – he found heat excruciatingly hard to tolerate; hence why he usually stuck to the Northern realms during his travels).

In conclusion: there was no right place for them, just ‘bad’ and ‘less bad’ - Geralt was fairly certain of that.

“Well, what about Mettina?” Jaskier asked suddenly.

“What about it? It’s a vassal state of Nilfgaard.”

“Yes, but no,” Jaskier replied, exasperated. “I mean what about the capital of Mettina which bears the same name? It’s said to be a huge metropolis and a trade capital; merchants from all over the Continent meet there to exchange goods. It should be sufficiently busy to have a lot of inns in it and merchants with ample coin; they’d make a good audience for me.” The Alpha said sounding obviously pleased at the thought. “Plus, the lands around there are rich, and the climate is temperate – we could easily grow whatever we wish to grow there. I hear they make excellent wine and their ponies are held in high esteem all over the Continent. Perhaps we could try out hand at wine-making or pony-herding!”

By the end of his rant, Jaskier was almost vibrating with excitement. The idea of moving to Mettina sounded far-fetched; Geralt had never travelled south of Nazair. All he knew of Mettina was based on tale of mouth and the occasional accounts of fellow Witchers – mainly about the realm’s monsters.

But now that he thought about it… what Jaskier said didn’t sound half bad really. He wasn’t sure if grape growing was his call, but looking after horses? Geralt could do that. It almost sounded… nice.

“I guess Mettina is as safe a bet as any.” Geralt said impassively.

Jaskier hit him in the shoulder.

“Shut up! _You love it_ – admit it! You like the sound of it!”

“Mmh, yes, but unlike you, I don’t base my hopes on rumours and old-wives tales. I’ll believe it when I see it.” Geralt said.

“Great,” Jaskier replied. “Let’s do it then.”

* * *

They took a week to prepare – for Jaskier to gather some coin and for them to buy some essential supplies which may be pricier in the South; such as grains for sowing in the spring, some seeds for vegetable crops, some basic tools (as iron was remarkably cheap in Temeria but not so in Mettina).

Then came the packing – they pull all of their collective belongings into three big sacks. Geralt was rather proud of himself, particularly at the way he managed to help Jaskier narrow down his garment collection – no man needed _three_ winter coats! Especially not if they’d be living South of Nazair.

Once they were all done, they spent one more evening together at the inn – enjoying the quiet before the storm. From tomorrow onwards, they would be in a foreign land which would doubtlessly bring its own hardships- and they would need to start looking for a permanent home.

So they enjoyed a nice leisurely evening, just the two of them. Jaskier insisted on ordering them the best cuts of meat and roast potatoes dripping in goose fat for supper. Geralt normally frowned on such luxuries and felt it was a waste of coin – but perhaps because of the pregnancy, that roast dinner tasted like heaven. Afterwards, he felt happy and sated, although he didn’t say as much, but Jaskier seemed to know it nonetheless. The Alpha snuggled up to him in bed, pulling the covers over them.

“Our new adventure begins tomorrow.” Jaskier said, caressing Geralt’s face gently, before he dragged it lower to his neck, his chest, settling on the swell of his belly – now full with food as well as the fruit of their love. His voice became lower pitched and even more tender as he addressed the bump:

“You have no idea how much your Mummy and Daddy are doing for you Little One! Going out of their way already… Your Mummy may even build a house – just for you; imagine that!” Jaskier said, smiling at Geralt teasingly.

The Omega scoffed.

Jaskier ignored him in favour of leaning even closer to his mate’s pregnant belly.

“Mhh, what’cha saying? You say that sounds like a stupid idea, because Mummy should rest and you could just _buy_ a house instead of building one?” Geralt gave Jaskier a deadly glare, but the bard just chuckled.

“Oh, I agree with you Little One! But you see, your Mummy is quite stubborn, and he’s set on creating the perfect home for you – no matter the cost.”

Geralt felt a lump building at his throat at Jaskier’s words – he had never thought to put his feelings into words, but they rang true nonetheless. He was determined to give this child the very best of all he could offer.

Jaskier continued, looking straight at him: “He’s admirable, really.”

The way his mate said that – with utter conviction – was Geralt’s undoing. He felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes before spilling over (damn pregnancy hormones) and he buried his face in Jaskier’s shoulder to hide them.

“Aw, Geralt,” Jaskier muttered, sounding strained himself. “How can you be so thick? I swear it breaks my heart… how many times do I have to tell you I love you before you start believing it?”

Geralt felt a small smile spread across his face.

“You’re one to talk…” Geralt meant the comment as a jibe – but to his surprise, Jaskier huffed and he seemed to consider his words before he spoke:

“Well, I guess you’re right. Quite the pair we make, eh?” There was something sad and almost… _defeated_ in the Alpha’s expression.

“I know you love me and that you think well of me,” Geralt murmured softly, hugging his Alpha a bit tighter, hoping to chase that sadness away – it did not look good on Jaskier. “I don’t really need to hear it now. But… it’s still nice, you know?”

He hoped Jaskier would understand what he meant – because yeah, in the past he couldn’t believe it when the Alpha told him sweet sentimental nothings and he used to think Jaskier was either lying, exaggerating or he was delusional… but that was no longer the case. Having witnessed Jaskier’s kind gestures towards himself almost constantly for over six months now… Geralt just knew, the bard meant it. It couldn’t be faked.

Jaskier’s face lit up at his mate’s comment, and he sighed contentedly.

“Ah… good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be about finding a new home in Mettina! :) They're getting there!  
> (Brief update in the pregnancy - I am estimating Geralt is in week 22 currently. That's 5 months. So we're in the second trimester now, soon to be stepping into the third (week 28 onwards)!)


	24. Surprise, Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier arrive in Mettina.

The following morning, in preparation for the journey ahead, they ate a hearty breakfast and packed away the last of their belongings.

While they were getting ready to summon Yennefer, Geralt could not help but notice that Jaskier seemed a bit… off.

The Alpha was fidgety and he kept smiling for no reason… Not that that was unusual for him, but Geralt could not help but think that usually he was less cheerful at the prospect of heaps of work ahead of them (which building a home would surely be!). Geralt had asked him if anything was wrong earlier but Jaskier denied it vehemently and he seemed sincere enough, so the Omega decided to let it be.

Summoning Yennefer was easy; they did it the way they did last time when Yennefer helped them visit Kaer Morhen. Geralt opened the box the sorceress had given them and he took the small amulet from within, hanging it in front of himself.

“Yen – are you listening? It’s Geralt and Jaskier.” Geralt said evenly.

Once that was done, there was nothing left to do but wait. Sometimes Yennefer took a while to appear, because she may have been out and about, tending to her business. If she was not home, she could not hear their call through her telecommunicator. Geralt had made her promise before they parted that she would not abandon everything in case they called her; she should prioritise her own business above theirs. Yen had assured him that would not be an issue.

Jaskier grew ever more fidgety as they sat there in silence, waiting for the sorceress to arrive. They did not have to wait long – about ten minutes later, a portal suddenly appeared in front of them and Yennefer stepped through – donning naught but a bathrobe.

“Well, well! Right on time.” Yennefer said smiling at them.

Geralt frowned, a dawning suspicion creeping up on him as he followed Yennefer’s gaze – which was trained on Jaskier, who was currently looking around sheepishly.

Geralt took a deep breath. “Jaskier…”

The Alpha twitched.

“What? All I did was ask her to- to…”

Seeing Geralt’s dangerous glare, the bard changed tactics, pointing at Yennefer instead.

“It was _her_ idea! Don’t look at me! I was but a pawn in her plan…”

“Damn right,” Yennefer acceded. “Although I have to admit, I was grateful for your mate’s help. It has made everything smoother.”

“What do you mean ‘everything’--?” Geralt asked.

Yennefer waved her hand.

“Enough of the idle chit chat. I was in the middle of a rather lovely morning shag so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t take up any more of my time than you absolutely need to.”

Jaskier muttered an “ew”, causing Yennefer to smirk. The sorceresses' brows furrowed as she concentrated, holding her palm out in front of herself, conjuring up yet another portal next to herself. Once it was done, she motioned them towards it.

“Grab your bags and walk through.”

 _Fuck_. Geralt finally saw the full picture now. Damn, they hadn’t even _told_ Yennefer where they wanted to go... Yet she _knew_ where they were going…

Which meant that Jaskier must have informed Yennefer in secret ( _the traitor_ ) – there was no other logical explanation.

Jaskier grabbed one of their bags, so Geralt followed suit, albeit reluctantly.

“Thank you, Yennefer,” Jaskier said, to Geralt’s surprise, looking at the sorceress earnestly. “I owe you one.”

Yennefer smiled, waving. “Yeah, sure. You can repay me by allowing me to see my cute little niece or nephew as often as I can - once the little devil is born!”

Jaskier grinned. “You betcha!”

Geralt rolled his eyes, feeling ready to step through that portal (mainly because it felt like the bag on his back was getting heavier by the second).

“Yeah, thank you. Don’t forget to send Roach after us, okay?” The Omega muttered.

Yennefer gave him an impassive look as if to say ‘duh, obviously’.

She turned to Jaskier, addressing him again.

“I hope you like the place! I know you asked me to keep it simple, but I couldn’t resist adding some... _comforts_ ,” The sorceress said winking at the bard conspiratorially. “I could’ve done _way_ more if I would have had longer than a week to prepare it, mind you—”

 _Wait a second_ – Geralt thought, trying to piece Yen’s words together.

“Thank you, thank you!” Jaskier shouted, interrupting Yennefer. “I’m sure it’ll be just perfect! Come on, Geralt!”

And fuck, his Alpha was going to pay for this, because then suddenly Jaskier was _pushing_ him into the portal.

Geralt did _not_ see that coming, so it was too late; by the time he attempted to resist the pressure of the Alpha’s palm on his lower back they have both made it through the portal.

Geralt frowned at the sudden brightness of the midday sun filling his eyes. It took his vision a couple of moments to adjust before he could finally look around to survey their surroundings.

When he did, he felt a prickle of irritation run threw himself.

“You’ve got to be joking.” The Witcher muttered looking at his Alpha impassively.

“ _What?_ ” Jaskier peeped, although to his credit, _at least_ he had the decency to look guilty. “Don’t you like it though?”

 _Like it?_ Seriously?

They were standing on a huge plot of empty land situated in the middle of nowhere, with a little wood cabin in front of them.

It was… more than anything Geralt had ever imagined he may own one day.

He shook his head, turning towards Jaskier decisively.

“We have to call Yennefer back and tell her that we can’t accept this.”

“Now-now, Geralt!” Jaskier said, holding his palm up defensively. “Hold your horses there! This - this isn’t exactly a gift… We paid for it!” The Alpha blurted out suddenly.

Geralt couldn’t believe his ears, although at that admission, he felt some of his tension drain out of him.

“What do you mean, Jaskier?”

The Alpha looked down at his feet sheepishly.

“Well, as you may have gathered from Yen’s words, I spoke to her a week ago… On the day we agreed we’d move to Mettina. I contacted her myself, because I knew you wouldn’t have liked asking for her help – again...”

Damn right he would not have.

He sighed, rubbing his brows.

“So you spoke to her, and what..?” Geralt said, squinting. “Asked her to build a home for us?”

Jaskier held her hands up defensively. “Well, that’s a rude assumption! I’ll tell you I did no such thing… All I asked from her was -- since she’s better at diplomacy than we are – that she go ahead and ask her Mettinese contacts if anyone knew about any land currently available for hire. But as you can see,” Jaskier said, gesturing towards the wooden cabin and the land around them. “She wasn’t satisfied with that! She said she may as well handle the rental arrangements herself and she could build us a-a temporary accommodation, if need be…” Geralt rolled his eyes, which made Jaskier flustered, and he began to babble defensively. “Just a cabin!… I told her; just a very rudimentary one, so we have somewhere to sleep in while we figure out what sort of house we’d like to build for ourselves. Or if we decide to find another piece of land, then we can just live here temporarily, until we find something better. It’s cheaper than paying for a room at an inn.”

Geralt was still a bit suspicious, but he had to admit that his Alpha sounded sincere and what he was saying made… sense.

He was still a bit pissed that Jaskier had accepted Yennefer’s offer for building them a hut; Geralt would have preferred to do that himself. But he had to admit that it would prove useful in the coming days at least.

Geralt was spooked out of his musings when another portal opened next to them and Roach stepped through it, neighing indignantly.

He went up to her to take her reigns, soothing the frightened mare with ease. To his surprise, there was a note attached to Roach’s saddle so he took it and held it up so he could read the message inside. Geralt could immediately tell that it was written in Yennefer’s elegant cursive lettering.

> _“Dear Geralt,_
> 
> _Please, do not blame Jaskier if you don’t like the temporary lodging arrangements **we** (me and Jaskier) had agreed on. _
> 
> _Look, finding somewhere to live can be stressful at the best of times and may I remind you, - although you may forget about it sometimes - you’re heavily pregnant and as such, should take all due care to avoid taxing yourself any further than is necessary! I insist you abide by that as long as you’re under my watch._
> 
> _(Also, may I remind you that I have a vested interest in the well-being of your unborn babe, being its favourite-Auntie-to-be? I am doing this for them, not for you, rest assured!)”_

Geralt snorted ( _favourite Auntie?_ ) but continued to read.

> _“Please, do not worry – the land you are currently standing on is **not** yours – yet! I have merely arranged a temporary rental agreement for you with the owner of the land, in exchange for a modest fee (lent by your Alpha), which Jaskier had assured me you’d be more than able and willing to pay. You’ll find the rental contract prepared, waiting for your signature on the kitchen table. _
> 
> _The owner is wiling to rent or sell this piece of land to any party who is interested, because there is no water source and there is a thick forest bordering the plot; full of wolves, direwulves and other pesky beasts, so it has been deemed unusable for agriculture or rearing livestock._
> 
> _As per Jaskier’s request, I have created a modest (borderline puritan) little home for you two, and nothing else. He said you would probably want to build the rest yourself, if you decide to stay on. I couldn’t sway him to allow me to build you something nicer, regrettably._
> 
> _Anyway, I have taken the liberty of ‘digging’ a hidden well for you, using magic of course. They weren’t lying when they said there was no water around here: I had to dig down hundreds of meters, let me tell you! But now you have fresh drinking water on demand. Be careful not to tell the owner that, or else you can forget about buying this piece of land for a sensible price._
> 
> _And finally, another word of advice to you: try and take it easy, okay? Let Jaskier handle things and let him take care of you for a little while. I think he had already proven that he is more than capable of supporting you both – and I don’t just mean that in the financial sense._
> 
> _Don’t be an idiot, Geralt. Let your Alpha shine a little bit. You know how we, Alphas are… we like to provide for our mates._
> 
> _Even if they’re our exes._
> 
> _With love,_
> 
> _Yennefer”_

Geralt had to re-read the letter two times to take in all the information contained within and to convince himself that he wasn’t dreaming.

What Yen was describing sounded… amazing. That they could _potentially_ buy this land for a low price, well below its actual value, thanks to Yen’s cunningness… And thanks to her sheer power as a sorceress; digging a well as deep as the one Yen had created would have probably been impossible for humans. Geralt took one look at the ground and he could see the problem: the soil was rocky, big pieces of limestone sticking out here and there. Yen must have ‘dug’ through meters of solid stone to create this well…

“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry but,” Jaskier addressing him suddenly. “May I ask what the letter says? Is it from Yennefer?”

“Yes, it is,” Geralt replied pensively. “Nothing much, she is informing us that the rental contract for this piece of land is in the cabin on the kitchen table. And she has created a well for us, because there was no water to be found on this land to begin with.”

Jaskier nodded, visibly relieved. “Ah, that’s excellent! So, exactly as we agreed on. Except for the well, of course… I didn’t think we’d need one. But I told her not to build anything fancy, I swear!”

For the first time since that morning, Geralt found himself smiling full of mirth.

“Relax, Jaskier. Yen had mentioned it in her letter as well. I -- umm…” Geralt hesitated for a second, trying to find a way to word his feelings. “I – truly appreciate that you… kept in mind what I wanted. Even though I’m sure you’d have preferred to live in a castle instead of this little cabin…”

Jaskier laughed.

“Guilty as charged!” His Alpha smiled, sending Geralt a softer look. “But I don’t even care to be honest. Anywhere feels like the most luxurious of places… as long as I have you.”

Geralt felt himself flush, so he turned away quickly, pretending to fiddle with Roach’s reigns.

“Hmm, I believe that when you’ve spent a few days here. You may find it less comfortable than you’re used to.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“Geralt, I’m used to living on the road and camping in the forest with you. During rainy season.”

Hmm, yeah - Geralt had forgotten about that.

Jaskier gave him a devilish smirk.

“Compared to that, this will be like the poshest of inns, I’d wager!”

Geralt allowed Jaskier to walk alongside him as they made their way to their new home; carrying one bag at a time into their new home.

The cabin was small; just two little rooms: a bedroom and a living room with kitchen and a tub. Yennefer didn’t lie when she said she built a modest home for them. But it would be perfect for the two of them, for now – Geralt thought.

“How do you like it?” Jaskier asked, sounding strangely tense.

“It’s good.” Geralt said easily.

“Good?” Jaskier asked, clearly relieved.

Geralt scoffed – typical Jaskier; worried about others opinions as always. Although he was amused, he also felt a tinge of warmth at the idea – no, the undeniable truth that Jaskier _cared_ about him, and wanted him to be happy. It was frightening but… nice as well.

“Very good.” He replied in a soothing tone. He walked up to his Alpha, and on a whim, gave Jaskier a big, enveloping hug. The Alpha gave a wounded little noise and returned the hug, squeezing Geralt tightly, but being mindful not to press against his bulging belly too much. It could not have been a comfortable experience for the Alpha, but Jaskier didn’t complain.

It was Geralt who broke the embrace finally, pulling back to look at the bard.

“I have a proposal. How about we unpack our bags today… and leave everything else until tomorrow?”

Jaskier grinned.

“That sounds like a fabulous idea, my dear!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a challenging chapter to write, but the road should be smoother now that our heroes have arrived to their new home - or did they?? ;)- I am planning to focus more on the pregnancy itself and less on other events from hereon out; I know we hadn't heard about Geralt's feelings around his pregnancy for a while... He didn't really have time to digest with everything that's been going on, but that should change now. 
> 
> Also, side-note: I just noticed that this story now has 800 kudos exactly at the time I am writing this... This is absolutely mind-blowing to me!!! :'( I'm incredibly grateful😊!! Thank you all for the kudos and for all the comments!  
> I hope you continue to enjoy Geralt's and Jaskier's journey! :)


	25. Settling In I.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt work out their finances.

The coming weeks were… challenging.

Things started off fairly smoothly: they met up with the ranch’s current owner and within a few meetings, managed to strike a deal with him, buying the land for an acceptably low price.

Once that was over and dealt with, they could begin planning what they would do with their new place, their new _home._ The first thing Geralt insisted upon was to create a little garden around the cabin. They used the seeds they had bought in Vizima, and sowed what they could sow. If they were in the northern part of the Continent, it would have been too early to sow vegetable seeds, but here, in Mettina, frost was apparently unheard of, so they didn’t need to worry about that.

That occupied Geralt for a week; but once it was done, he wanted to start the next big project: building a stable for their future ponies.

Except – Jaskier wouldn’t _let him._

“I’m pregnant, not incapacitated!” Geralt hissed with barely concealed contempt.

Jaskier held his hands out in a placating gesture.

“Now-now, I know that… – I _do!_ ” The Alpha said empathically at Geralt’s sceptical look. “But… you are _pregnant_ , Geralt! There are simply some things you _should not_ be doing at the moment. It’s only three more months now before the babe is born and then you can return to normal…”

“That’s three more months than I want to wait!” Geralt spat.

Jaskier sighed. “I know that. But really?” The Alpha said, looking at his Omega meaningfully. “Do you _need_ to start building a stall for our future horses right now?”

Geralt opened his mouth to protest, but Jaskier interrupted him:

“And okay, even if you do – _must_ you cut all the wood for it and carry it yourself?”

“Roach would be the one carrying it!” Geralt retorted defensively.

“Yeah, after _you’ve_ heaved it up onto her back!” Jaskier shot back, giving Geralt a meaningful look.

 _Damn it, he’s right._ \- Geralt thought grudgingly. He stayed silent.

Jaskier shook his head. “No way! How about I buy the wood and arrange to have it brought here, and _then_ you can use it to build the stables… if you promise to do it sensibly!” Jaskier said in a tone that bore no argument.

Geralt could sense that he has lost the argument.

“Fine, let’s do it your way.”

To his surprise, Jaskier merely squinted at him suspiciously.

“No felling trees,” The Alpha said, counting out the conditions on his fingers. “No lifting really _fucking heavy_ stuff… I know it’s hard for you to believe, but I’m _not_ saying all of this to piss you off!” He stopped, seeming to hesitate for a second before continuing. “Hell, I know that if anything were to happen to the babe, _you_ would be absolutely devastated, Geralt! So please… don’t be reckless!”

Geralt felt a cold clenching feeling in his gut at the mere mention of anything happening to the babe, and he could barely restrain himself from touching his belly – to make sure that bulge is still there, to feel it’s comforting warmth.

His unease must have shown, because Jaskier’s voice turned softer.

“Let’s not take unnecessary risks, okay?”

Geralt felt the fight go out of him at his mate’s caring tone.

“Okay then. You get the wood.” He conceded grudgingly.

It felt almost physically _painful_ to utter those words… Because despite the clear contraindications, a part of Geralt’s mind was still screaming: “ _Why are we wasting precious coin on something as abundant as wood, when there is a damn forest next to us?!”_. But he understood Jaskier’s reasoning; yes, it would be a strenuous activity… To cut down trees and transport them. That would have taken a toll on his body even when he hadn’t been pregnant – never mind now.

Jaskier seemed relieved as he nodded: “Okay, I’ll get that sorted by the end of this week.”

Geralt nodded tensely.

“Thank you...”

To his surprise, Jaskier huffed and came up to him to ruffle his hair.

“Aww, don’t pull that face, Geralt! That’s not fair…” Jaskier looked up at him with bright, soulful eyes. “I know it feels unnatural for you to relax and be idle, but… Well, there is no rush for you to start earning money, because we are doing just fine with coin. You know I’ve earned more yesterday at the Lucky Hound than I had during our last _week_ in Vizima?”

The Lucky Hound was one of the larger inns in the town centre of Mettina, and it was just a good walk away from their current place; Jaskier had been boasting about his success there nearly every day since he had discovered it.

Geralt sighed.

“I know, and… I am happy for you, Jaskier. It’s just…” He winced. There was no good way of saying this. “I don’t like… _relying_ on you for my livelihood. I would be much happier if I could contribute… even if only a little bit…”

“And you will.” Jaskier said, sounding utterly convinced.

Geralt grunted. “Will I? What can I do - for now? Take care of the little vegetable garden we’ve planted? That will save us… What, barely a bit of coin over the span of _a year —_ ”

“Hey, not having to buy potatoes, tomatoes and all the rest will save us quite a bit!”

“Yeah, maybe _one_ contract’s worth of coin,” Geralt said, snorting in contempt.

Jaskier’s eyes glinted dangerously.

“Well you can’t take Witcher contracts at the moment, so as far as I’m concerned, this is ‘found coin’ as it is…!”

Geralt snarled.

“Well, I would rather earn _actual_ money! If we got a pair of ponies, we could start breeding them…”

“Yes, we could.” Jaskier agreed, to Geralt’s surprise. “That’s why I am agreeing to help you build a stable for them. Let’s create a nice place for them, including fencing and all that. And while you are building it that’ll give us time to save up a portion of the coin I am earning for my singing. So that when the time comes, you’ll be able to purchase the finest ponies money can buy!” The Alpha added with a characteristic flourish of his hands, which made Geralt chuckle. However, he quickly became solemn again as his mind wandered to the financial aspect of their plan.

“But -- why should we rely on the coin you earn to buy the ponies? I have coin too; the reserves I brought with myself from Kaer Morhen.” Geralt hadn’t counted it yet, but he was pretty sure he had upwards of twelve thousand orens – that should be plenty enough for two ponies, based on the prices they had seen at the market.

Jaskier nodded. “Yes, we could, but they use marks and florens around here. You wouldn’t get a fair price if you paid in orens – so why not save your coin, until we find a better use for it?”

“That all makes sense,” Geralt conceded slowly. “If we assume that all of our coin is shared. And I know you’ve suggested as much before, but I just… I can’t help but worry – what if we break up? What if we decide to go our separate ways?” Geralt looked at Jaskier directly, hoping to convey the seriousness of his words. “ _I_ will need something to live off of, Jaskier! If we buy the ponies on _your_ coin… how could I claim to keep them?”

“Oh, Geralt…” Jaskier said in a low, melancholy voice. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think that you were worried about _that!_ Well, let me remedy that.” He said, taking Geralt’s hands into his own and looking into his mate’s eyes earnestly. “I give my word that I will look after you, even if we separate – if it is within my means, that is! I guess I can’t exactly support you if I’m penniless myself, but let’s hope it won’t come to that!”

Jaskier chuckled and Geralt scoffed affectionately.

The Alpha continued after a second’s hesitation, chewing on his lower lip. “And as for the ponies – let’s register them under your name!”

Geralt felt his breathing stop at the suggestion. Jaskier, seemingly oblivious, carried on his explanation as if this was the most natural suggestion in the world.

“ _You_ will be the one trading with them, breeding them and so on… So it’s better if it’s your name on their certificate’s anyway! For the sake of practicality…”

Jaskier looked so nonchalant, he looked downright _pleased_ as he described this plan. Which was – simply mind-boggling for the Witcher who was used to greed and mistrust.

It was in that moment that it hit Geralt: Jaskier was truly okay with him not earning anything…

Hell, he would be okay with him continuing not to earn for the foreseeable future.

Even though Jaskier had told him _exactly that_ a dozen times already, it was still hard to believe that the Alpha _meant it_ when he uttered those words; Geralt used to think that Jaskier was just trying to appease him, or he wasn’t talking seriously.

But _this_ … Offering to buy the ponies for him _and_ give them to Geralt, granting him _full_ ownership…

This could not be explained away. It could not be passed off as anything, but what it was: a selfless gesture. An act of love.

Jaskier was doing all this for him – and he wasn’t expecting _anything_ in return.

Geralt felt himself tear up as he looked at his Alpha.

“Thank you… Yes, that would – that would be great actually,” His voice cracked and broke as the tears burst out and he was truly crying, sobbing… in a way he hadn’t done since he was a child training at Kaer Morhen. Geralt felt mortified. “I’m sorry—”

“Hey, it’s okay!” Jaskier said soothingly, interrupting his apologies – and that just made Geralt cry harder, now that he didn’t feel obligated to try and stifle his tears.

Jaskier drew him into a gentle hug and held him until the feeling passed.

“Mmh, sorry. Dunno where that came from,” Geralt said, still feeling a bit shaken, but somehow lighter as well.

Jaskier gave him a bright smile. “Well, I’m sure the pregnancy has something to do with it.” He became solemn as he looked at the Witcher with a searching look. “Are you sure this is okay then? We can buy the ponies with your coin if you prefer…”

“No!” Geralt said, interrupting Jaskier. “Fuck, it’s… that’s why I was crying.”

Jaskier gave him a confused look. “You were crying because you can keep your coin?”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “No, Jaskier, damn it! Because… I realised you meant what you said – about being in this together – about sharing.” He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he felt his throat beginning to tighten again, tears prickling his eyes. “You don’t mind if I don’t earn anything.”

It sounded stupid when he put it in such simple terms, and yet it felt _huge_ – impactful. Unbelievable. All at once.

Geralt was startled into awareness when Jaskier pulled him into a gentle kiss. The Alpha’s smile was bittersweet.

“I know you’d do the same for me. What made you think I wouldn’t?” Jaskier asked, voice full of gentle curiosity.

And _fuck –_ he had no idea how to answer that. He didn’t even know the answer himself.

“Hmm. Dunno?” He shrugged, hoping Jaskier would understand that he wasn’t withholding the reply on purpose.

To his elation, instead of getting annoyed, Jaskier _laughed_.

“Gods, I always forget how thick you can be sometimes!” The Alpha said, wheezing from laughter.

Geralt turned away purposefully, making his way inside their cabin.

“Well, if there is nothing else to discuss, I’ll go start our dinner.”

“Hey-hey!” Jaskier shouted after him. “I’m sorry! I meant no offense… I love you. Thickness and all…”

“Mmh, love you too,” Geralt mumbled back grudgingly. He smirked when he saw Jaskier’s elated reaction at that simple little admission. The Alpha was trying to reign in his excitement, but it was clear that he loved it when Geralt returned his words.

As if on cue, Geralt noticed that somebody else was vying for his attention too.

“Fuck, if this babe continues kicking like that, I won’t last till the end of the pregnancy, I will cut them out of my womb myself…”

Jaskier took on a mock-appalled look, soothing a gentle hand over the curve of Geralt’s tense stomach.

“Sshh, Little One… Mummy didn’t mean that… it’s okay… you’re just exercising, ain’t that right? You gotta kick around a lot so you’ll be a strong, healthy baby…”

Geralt snorted. “Well, in that case, this will be an extremely healthy baby allright…”

Jaskier grinned. “Can’t argue with that… It’s quite something.” He noted with awe as the baby gave his hand another forceful kick through the wall of Geralt’s belly.

Jaskier winced in sympathy. _That_ couldn’t be pleasant!

“Well, you only have three more months to go, at least,” Jaskier added, giving his mate a sympathetic look.

Geralt shot the Alpha a dark look, prying Jaskier’s hand off of his belly gently, so he could walk on towards the kitchen. Now that he thought about it, he must have been hungry – perhaps that would help with the kicking…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :) More chapters to come soon!


	26. Settling In II.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt make themselves at home and settle into a routine of sorts.

Sleeping was getting harder by the day as Geralt’s pregnancy progressed. He just kept waking up to various things; sometime it would be the baby wiggling in his belly, but often it wasn’t that, it would be the way the mattress was pushing into his side uncomfortably, the rustling of the wind outside, or Jaskier’s bloody snoring – a thing he was fast becoming fed up with…

“I can’t help it, Geralt!” Jaskier protested repeatedly. “I’m sorry but there is nothing I can do to stop it, so just… You’re welcome to wake me if that helps!”

Geralt just sighed – what was the point in explaining it again that _no_ , that would not help because the damage was already done anyway…

The problem was not that Geralt woke easily, _but_ that it took him ages to fall back to sleep!

Geralt had also developed another habit – when he had some time to reflect, he would just sit and instead of simply meditating, he had taken to talking to his bump. He would tell stories… sometimes actual bedtime stories, sometimes just stories about himself and his past. He found it helped him relax when he did that, especially if he was also stroking his belly – massaging the itchy skin on his sizeable bulge.

Contrary to his expectations, Geralt’s bump turned out to be anything but small and softly rounded: it looked more like he was trying to smuggle a watermelon under his chemise, except more pointy. It was… aggressive, jutting out as it wanted. _Out and proud_ – as Jaskier liked to say.

Geralt didn’t even want to consider what his belly button would end up looking like once this pregnancy was over… The thing had already stretched out beyond recognition.

Not to mention the other impracticalities: it was becoming steadily harder to put his boots on in the morning. He had taken to wearing _fucking_ slippers lately because they were easier to manage…

Jaskier had given him an amused look about them one morning, but it was wiped away a few minutes later when he noticed that he didn’t receive bacon with his eggs that morning… Geralt smiled at him sweetly as he tucked into his own plate of bacon and eggs.

Although he hated a lot of the inconveniences that came with being heavily pregnant, Geralt had to admit that it seemed to have helped him calm down – somewhat. He felt much less bad about being idle when he was having to use the toilet every half an hour; when even just _standing up_ felt like a chore sometimes. When he was suffering with heartburn after every meal… When his child thought it acceptable to hold regular kicking parties in his stomach, ploughing at Geralt’s poor abused internal organs… But the absolute worst was when the little devil was lying just so and he would target the back of Geralt’s spine… the back pain was unreal! It made Geralt want to hunch over, curl up in a ball and stay like that forever.

But he couldn’t, because true to his word, Jaskier did get the wood material for the stables, so Geralt needed to do something with it – he couldn’t just leave the wood outside in a pile where it was exposed to the elements!

Yeah, he should have thought about that sooner.

So instead of lying around, Geralt was forced to get up and work a little each day. With Jaskier’s help, he was building a little “shed” as he’d taken to calling it. It would be a good place to store things they did not use everyday – a thing they were fast developing a definite need for, because for now, they were forced to store all their gardening equipment (shovels, spades and the like) in their tiny living room – next to the dining table and the tub… And there was no space for them, truly. But Geralt was adamant they couldn’t leave them outside, not even if they were propped against the wall, because they would begin to rust at a much faster rate that way, exposed to the humidity caused by daily temperature changes and the morning dew.

So they needed a tool-shed, and Geralt was going to build one – no big deal.

Jaskier was vocal about his displeasure about having to assist Geralt, right up to the point when Geralt reminded him that he would be happy to work on his own, and the only reason Jaskier was allowed to be there was because he insisted on supervising Geralt. The Alpha’s complaints have died away after that and he would only sigh occasionally.

Even thought the Omega would never have admitted it out loud, he could not help but notice that the work was easier with Jaskier there – the Alpha provided actual physical help and what’s more: companionship. Making the long, tiring days bearable.

Unfortunately, the arrangement had meant that in addition to singing at inns almost every evening, Jaskier was also forced to work on the shed with Geralt during the day.

* * *

Finally, it had happened one day.

Jaskier went to sing at the Lucky Hound as always; but he didn’t come home, although Geralt waited for him well past midnight.

The Witcher tried to reason with himself. His Alpha _must have_ been tired because they had been working hard building the shed all day; he probably just fell asleep at the inn.

Jaskier had plenty of coin on him (even assuming he had not earned anything last night): he could have paid for a room; he would be back come morning - for sure…

Geralt knew all that, yet he could barely keep himself from going out to search for his mate as soon as the sun came up.

He had dressed himself and he even put his boots on, so he could walk to town more easily. It occurred him that he didn’t even know where the Lucky Hound was, but it didn’t matter, he told himself: he could ask someone for directions once he got to the marketsquare…

The door creaked open in that moment, and Geralt’s heart almost gave out in relief.

“Jaskier, oh Gods, you’re okay!” The Omega said, throwing himself at his sleepy-looking Alpha before he could say anything.

Jaskier hugged him back groggily. “Uhm? Yes, of course… I’m really sorry, the audience in the tavern yesterday was exceptionally lively, and they demanded I sing on longer than I usually do… I wouldn’t have given in, but they were paying me good coin, so I gave in in the end… I was planning to walk home regardless, but I was exhausted, and the inn-keep offered me free room and board – and well – I couldn’t refuse that…”

Geralt scoffed, smiling up at his mate affectionately.

“Of course you couldn’t!” He said, stroking Jaskier’s jaw softly. “I don’t mind, I was hoping that was the case. But I was worried, because it was unexpected. I was ready to go looking for you if you hadn’t come home within an hour or so…”

“I’m so sorry!” Jaskier said, sounding clearly apologetic. “I swear I’ll tell you if I am expecting this to happen next time…”

Geralt shrugged. “Well, it’s part of your job I guess… you can’t expect it to be predictable all the time. But at least now I’ll know not to worry.”

Jaskier smiled. “Thank you, darling… for being so understanding. I am truly sorry though… let me make it up to you, hm?” The Alpha hummed, giving him a sweet kiss on the jaw and Geralt _melted._

And then wrinkled his nose as he took a whiff of the air.

“Eurghh… You reek, Jaskier.”

Jaskier broke away, wincing apologetically. “Oh yeah, that would be the hangover.”

“Did you… Throw up?” Geralt asked, grinning in astonishment. The bard usually prided himself on his high tolerance when it came to drinking.

Jaskier ducked away, leaving to get the bucket, beginning to work at filling their tub.

“Now-now, it isn’t nice to rejoice at the misery of others…”

Geralt laughed, feeling giddy from the relief of it all.

“Oh, no! I’m going to enjoy this fully!” The Witcher said, shaking his head in disbelief. “And to think, I was worried you may have been kidnapped! And there you were, singing and drinking away merrily and eating… some sort of stew?”

Jaskier nodded, grabbing another bucketful of water. “Yeah, it was a pretty decent Goulash… Although not as good as yours of course.” He added, smirking at Geralt sweetly.

“Kiss arse,” Geralt muttered without any heat.

While Jaskier readied his bath, Geralt busied himself with kneading up a batch of fresh bread using some leftover sourdough he had stashed away from last week’s rations.

He readied the oven, creating a nice even fire, making sure it would produce a good amount of embers. This also had the added benefit of heating up the whole house, until it was truly toasty inside – Geralt had to open the windows to let out some of the heat.

Geralt went to have a little nap in the bedroom while he was waiting for the dough to rise. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night between worrying about Jaskier and feeling unable to get comfortable without the bard’s soothing snoring sounds.

He must have nodded off because the next time he came to, it was to because Jaskier was carding gentle fingers through his hair, detangling it with care.

“Hmm… how long was I out?” Geralt asked, voice slightly scratchy from sleep.

Jaskier smirked. “Hmm.. it must have been an hour or two at least…”

Geralt’s eyes widened and he groaned. “Oh crap! I must put the bread in the oven, the fire’ll go out…”

Jaskier shook his head. “No it won’t, I fixed it! We’re good for another hour at least.”

“Ah – good.” Geralt said, relaxing back.

“Hmm indeed,” Jaskier muttered, eyeing his mate with a sultry look, that made Geralt quiver with desire. “Hm, I wonder how we could pass the time… Perhaps we could sleep some more..?”

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Geralt growled, low and threatening. The warning had the desired effect because Jaskier laughed and straddled him on the bed, leaning down to kiss Geralt’s neck hungrily.

“I was just teasing you, my lovely… Been thinking about doing this all night yesterday… Missed you…”

Geralt felt the flame of arousal awaken in the pit of his stomach at Jaskier’s low murmuring. “Me too… missed you too,” He muttered back breathlessly, pulling Jaskier’s head up forcefully to plant a passionate kiss on his lips – now that he was no longer smelling like vomit, thankfully - …

Jaskier broke away, panting: “Get your shirt off! I want to see you…”

Geralt could clearly hear the longing in his mate’s voice, and that egged him on, so he divested himself of his chemise and his breeches without hesitation. Jaskier kept kissing him through the process and Geralt realised with amusement that his mate was already naked.

The Omega was startled out of his musing when Jaskier looked up at him with an open, worshipful look of his face.

“Sweet Metlitele – you’re _breath-taking!_ ” The Alpha breathed, stroking over Geralt’s round, taut stomach, sliding his calloused palms up onto his chest to caress his pert nipples – causing the Omega to flinch in sensitivity and pleasure.

He had noticed that part of his body was changing lately – his nipples had darkened and they had become much more sensitive in the past week or two. Geralt wasn’t happy about it, but it couldn’t be helped – he was realising with surprise though that maybe he didn’t mind it afterall, if it could make him feel like that…

As if to emphasise his thoughts, Jaskier chose that moment to take one of the hardened nubs into his mouth, sucking and nipping on it playfully.

“Fuck,” Geralt hissed through clenched teeth. Jaskier’s other hand was still on the rounded curve of his mate's stomach, stroking it reverently.

“Wow, Geralt… Your belly has grown… It’s getting bigger every day now.” Jaskier said, with awe in his voice, as if that was a _good thing._

“Don’t I know it,” Geralt said, sighing.

Jaskier gave him a gentle look.

“Well – I think it makes you beautiful! You’re always gorgeous, but the way you look right now… So heavy and swollen with child – _my child…_ It’s almost painful how it makes me feel…”

Geralt couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He may have laughed and shrugged Jaskier’s compliments off if it wasn’t for the complete sincerity and conviction in the Alpha’s voice, which prompted Geralt to pry a bit further instead.

“How? -- ” The Omega asked, looking up at his Alpha hopefully, longingly.

Jaskier sighed, eyes falling closed as if he couldn’t _cope_ with all the sensations assaulting his senses.

Then suddenly, he looked up at Geralt with a look of hot urgency.

“Sweet Melitele, it makes me want to fuck you full of my come, makes me want to mark you _everywhere_ , scent you, so that anyone who comes across you will know that you are claimed – taken – _you’re mine_!!” Jaskier said, punctuating his words by biting down over Geralt’s existing bond-bite softly, in a gentler imitation of real thing.

Geralt keened. “Yes, yes…!”

“Sweet Gods, Geralt! The things you do to me! You have no idea!” Jaskier chanted, pupils blown wide. “There’s no one else… I don’t want anyone, just you. Only you. Can I fuck you? Please, darling? May I? I _need_ it…”

The Alpha asked, whining with need but continuing to touch and kiss Geralt gently and sweetly -- a poster of self-restraint -- -and it was all too much.

“Gods – _yes!_ \--- Oh! ----“

No sooner had Geralt uttered that word, he found himself being turned onto his side, one of his legs lifted gently, Jaskier holding it by his knee.

And then there was a spit-slicked finger pressing against his entrance- although it was unnecessary, Geralt was wet and ready - as he often found himself being nowadays – and thankfully, his Alpha must have realised that as well because then his eyes glinted dangerously and he plunged his finger into his mate without hesitation.

Soon, Geralt found himself stuffed full of fingers – three in total now, at least, and it made him moan in delight. He loved a bit of roughness when they were making love, although usually that wasn’t Jaskier’s preferred way of doing things, because the Alpha liked slow and gentle…

But _screw that!_ Apparently, Jaskier was in a different mood today, and Geralt didn’t mind it one bit.

Jaskier hitched up Geralt’s leg even higher, pulling his fingers out of him and replacing them with the head of his cock in one smooth motion.

The Alpha never looked away from Geralt's face as he pushed his cock into his mate's body.

Geralt shuddered at the feeling of being so deeply and thoroughly _taken_ – they hadn’t done this a while, especially not in this position… He welcomed it, grinding himself down on his Alpha’s cock.

“Shit, Geralt!” Jaskier ground out. “I’m not gonna last long!”

“Don’t!” Geralt grunted back, gone beyond words as he was.

Infuriatingly, Jaskier chose that moment to stop.

“What the fuck?!” Geralt shouted, shoving himself downwards, trying to rut himself back onto the Alpha’s cock, to take it deeper, _harder…._

“No, fuck, Geralt --! Stop that, damn it, I’m trying to stop my knot, -- I don’t wanna hurt you!”

The idea of taking his mate’s knot made Geralt shudder extra hard and he shook his head violently.

“Can’t hurt me – I can take it! Do it!” The Witcher said, -- demanded, really – and he lifted himself up, turning onto his hands and knees, manouvering so the tip of his Alpha’s cock stayed inside his hole even through the change of position….

And then Jaskier was seated in him deeply, properly - and _fuck_ – it was _glorious_.

His Alpha’s cock already had already felt deep before, but now Geralt fancied he could taste it in the back of his throat… It was like the pregnancy had made Geralt's channel even tighter and smaller, somehow – there wasn’t as much room inside as there used to be.

And then Jaskier shifted; the angle changed, and Geralt saw stars.

“Yes, fuck, yes, _exactly there_ , Jaskier…! Fuck fuck--!”

Geralt was not usually vocal during sex, but this was something _else_ – he had never felt like this before!

Jaskier was touching a new place inside of him; something that he had teased at in the past, but _never_ like _this_ …

Geralt could feel his orgasm building, coming on like a tidal wave – normally, he would need at least a good few strokes from his own hands, but this time, it felt like he may just peak untouched – a rare occurrence for him…

So he let it be, let Jaskier do what he was doing, and Gods, he was doing it perfectly! He kept at it, thrusting into Geralt over and over in the _same way_ , although his breathing was stuttering and he was grunting from exertion…

Time seemed to stop for a minute or two as Geralt was trembling deliciously on the cusp, on the very precipice of orgasm – always feeling dangerously close but never _quite_ tipping over – and he was starting to accept that it may not happen at all…

“Fuck, Geralt, I’m coming!” Jaskier shouted suddenly, leaning over his mate's back and reaching under him blindly - and his fingers got caught on Geralt’s swollen nipples – he yelped at the sharp pain of the sensation.

Jaskier either didn’t notice or couldn’t stop as he was in the middle of his own orgasm -because he tugged on Geralt’s nipple even _harder_ – and that delicious, unrelenting sting turned into Geralt’s undoing, as he rutted his hips back violently, fucking himself on Jaskier’s cock and his swelling knot, enjoying the tingling sensation in his teat… 

Until it was over and his body was replaced with a mewling, shuddering pool of satisfaction.

“Fuck.” Geralt muttered empathically.

Jaskier nodded, his chin still resting on Geralt’s back as he was hunched over him on all fours as well.

“Fuck indeed.”

The Alpha disentangled himself gently and helped Geralt turn onto his side, so they could spoon while they were waiting for the knot to deflate.

“Mmh, thanks,” Geralt murmured, squinting back at his mate affectionately.

Jaskier smiled down at him as if he was looking at the sun itself.

“Anytime, Sweetling. Love you.”

“Mmmh.”

The bread got baked later, while Geralt was soaking in a tub of deliciously warm water, scented with chamomile, prepared by Jaskier of course.

Geralt decided that perhaps pregnancy wasn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! :) I hope you enjoyed the fluffy pregnancy descriptions, I couldn't resist writing about them :) more to come soon, probably!!


	27. Preparing for the Babe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier are preparing to welcome the babe.

The ‘tool-shed’ was finished within a week, and _finally_ they had somewhere to store the wood purchased by Jaskier (well, the portion that remained after they’d built the shed from it, to be precise – it was still a decent amount).

They arranged the leftover wood inside, starting at the far wall, into neat stacks; no matter how tightly they packed it, it still filled half the shed. Thankfully, that was okay because the remaining space was more than enough for their gardening tools.

Geralt felt relieved that he would no longer have to worry about knocking over spades and shovels when he was sweeping their living room. Thank Melitele for small mercies!

Two days later, they finished another big project: building a home for Roach.

It was clear that winters were much milder here in Mettina compared to the North; temperature-wise, it felt as if it was late spring already, although February had only just begun. Roach was used to much colder temperatures, so the mare didn’t have any issues so far: grazing away happily on their land all day and sleeping under the nice big oak tree at the end of their little vegetable garden at night.

However, Geralt did not want this to become a permanent arrangement - in case the weather took a turn for the worse. Storms could come and go, so he wanted Roach to have shelter if need be.

Roach’s stable was built on the southern side of the shed, so it would be shielded from the strong Northern winds and it would receive plenty of natural light during the day. Since the shed was just a few paces away from their house, building the stable next to it also had the benefit that Roach could be close to them this way and the mare could alert them if anyone tried to trespass on their property. Geralt’s sensitive hearing was fine-tuned to Roach’s signals, he was sure to wake instantly if she so much as neighed.

It was a good system; they were a good team.

Once all the building work was done (for now), Geralt was exhausted… And then it occurred to him that they hadn’t even _started_ to prepare for the babe’s arrival yet! They needed baby stuff – and they needed it _yesterday._

He panicked.

* * *

Jaskier had affectionately coined Geralt’s behaviour as ‘nesting’.

The Witcher spent the coming weeks focusing on one sole goal: that of preparing their home for the arrival of the babe.

He did so by going to the market several times to buy and collect purchased items.

It was exhausting to have to walk so far, but he preferred walking compared to riding because riding made him nauseous, he as he had found out.

So walking to the market it was. He went from stall to stall until he found what he was looking for: a merchant selling linen, wool, silks and other textiles of all sorts. Once he had bought some essentials from the man, Geralt asked him if he knew of a good seamstress in town. Thankfully, the merchant was happy about the purchases Geralt had made, so he was helpful and polite to a fault; giving him detailed directions to some of the local seamstresses.

Geralt felt strangely nervous as he knocked on the door of the one he had decided on, based on recommendations.

“Hello! How can I help?” A merry little woman answered. Based on her appearance, she must have been quite old, yet her sunny demeanour belied her age.

“Yes, umm… I would like to have some clothes made for an infant…” Geralt said, stroking his pregnant belly self-consciously. “This is my first child…”

“Oh, congratulations!” The woman replied, smiling mirthfully. “Oh my, my! I see you are quite far along – when is the babe due?”

Geralt felt relieved that the woman didn’t find it strange that he was pregnant – with him being far too tall and muscular to be recognised as an Omega and all.

“Mid-April, or so.”

“Oh, good! I was worried it may be sooner than that, because – well, pardon me, but you are showing quite a bit! No offence!” She said, giggling like a young girl.

“None taken.” Geralt said, allowing a small smile to come to his face.

“Well,” The woman said, pushing up her chemise’s sleeves. “You came just in time: I should be able to sew everything you and the babe may require in the coming weeks. Come on in!” She instructed, motioning him inside. “I’ll prepare you some tea and we will discuss what you’ll need and what it will cost you.”

Geralt nodded obediently, following the seamstress inside into her little workshop.

They spent the coming hour or so discussing what sort of clothing items and blankets Geralt should have made in preparation for the babe’s arrival. Thankfully, as it turned out, the woman had had five children in her lifetime and twice as many grandchildren so far, so she knew exactly what was needed (“you’ll need more cloth-diapers than you can count – trust me!”) and what wasn’t (“little knit hats, scarves and mittens are adorable, but they are unnecessary, especially with summer coming up”).

She looked over the materials Geralt had bought from the merchant and gave him a list of additional fabrics to purchase; which he did, passing them on to her later in the afternoon.

All in all, Geralt paid a handsome sum, but not more than he had expected to pay. The seamstress had been lovely, so he didn’t mind rewarding her for her services.

They agreed that Geralt would return in a few weeks’ time to collect the completed baby garments, diapers, blankets and swaddle clothes.

“You can always order more once the babe is born,” The seamstress had said. “Don’t worry too much about the babe outgrowing their clothes; I will make them a little big, just in case they happen to be on the larger side.”

Geralt had thanked her for the good advice. He could do with worrying less, that much was for sure...

* * *

He spent the coming weeks making a beautiful crib for the baby – which he made large enough that it would probably fit them comfortably until they turned five years old (Geralt wasn’t leaving _anything_ up to chance…). He used the best quality wood and he made sure to polish it, so no splinters or rough edges remained.

It was a lot of work, but Geralt had time to kill anyway, since Jaskier had to go to follow up on a potential barding contract with a Mettinese noble family; they were looking for a bard for their daughter's wedding, apparently, and they insisted Jaskier should visit them in person before the big event, which was only a week away. The family estate was situated at the other end of Mettina, which was over three days away on horseback. 

  
" _I am really sorry," The Alpha had said. "I wouldn't even consider going if it wasn't for the coin - they say this family is obscenely rich... If this goes through, I wouldn't have to work for at least a few weeks after our babe is born - perhaps even longer! I wouldn't even have to go to sing in the evenings to any inn or tavern..."_

_"That sounds great." Geralt said, smiling. "Go for it."_

_"But- but... Wait, shouldn't you be upset that I'm leaving for a week or longer, when you are heavily pregnant?? What if the babe comes early...?"_

_"Jaskier," Geralt interrupted his mate. "That would be way too early, this babe has two months left to cook - it will be fine. This sounds like a great opportunity, so I think you should go."_

_He was rewarded by a dreamy smile._

_"How can I be so fortunate to have you as my mate?" Jaskier asked. "Very well. I'll go, but I shall think of you every day, and I will make sure to return within a fortnight."_

  
That had been a week ago now, and Geralt was definitely beginning to miss Jaskier's company, especially after he had finished the crib and he had a lot of spare time on his hands. 

He made himself busy by deep-cleaning the house, weeding their little garden and spoiling Roach with daily brushing, petting and treats.

* * *

On the day when Geralt went to collect the finished clothing articles from the seamstress, everything went smoothly. Geralt thanked her for the beautifully sewn garments and cloths, packing them away neatly into his knapsack. The walk home took longer than usual because of the added weight he was carrying, but he managed by stopping a few times here and there to rest.

He was surprised to see Jaskier upon entering the house – the fortnight wasn't up yet, so Geralt hadn’t been expecting him.

He was even more surprised when he noticed what the Alpha was sitting on: it was an ornate, hand-carved rocking chair, made of solid wood of a deep brown colour.

“Surprise, surprise!” Jaskier greeted him, beaming. “Everything went well with the wedding, and I received my payment!"

Seeing Geralt's questioning look, the bard quickly added: 

"Oh no-no-no, don't worry I didn't spend it all on this chair," Jaskier said, stroking his hand over the rocking chair's wide, comfortable-looking armrest for emphasis. "This, I had ordered from a local carpenter - well over a month ago now... I had heard these are supposed to be very good for nursing and they help babies fall asleep faster. Do you like it?” The Alpha asked, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Do I like it?” Geralt asked, huffing, reeling from the surprise of seeing his mate after ten days apart, and feeling a bit breathless from having walked home from town just now. He took a few moments before he answered, drawing some deep breaths.

“It’s – it’s - too much..." He said in between pants. 

He could see Jaskier tense at his choice of words, so he corrected himself quickly:

"Fuck, I mean - it's great, although you shouldn't have bothered, but - but it's great." There, Jaskier was beaming now, thank the Gods. What else could he say? _Oh right._ "Thank you.” He added the last words awkwardly, as he walked up to his Alpha, pulling him into a tight hug.

Jaskier melted against him beautifully.

“Mmm… I am glad you like it.” The bard murmured, stroking his back and noticing the rucksack he was still wearing. “What’s this on your back?”

“Hmm. All of the babe’s clothes and blankets.” Geralt answered, putting his load down onto the nearest chair.

"How lovely!” Jaskier agreed. "Well, I'll go take my doublet off and I'll prepare a bath because I haven't had one in the past three days..."

The Alpha headed over to the bedroom to change, but once he was in the doorway, he turned back abruptly. “What is this?! Oh my! – Is this the crib you had started just before I left?!”

Geralt felt himself smile a bit in pleasure and pride at his mate's astonished voice.

“It is. I've finished it.”

Jaskier looked up at him and Geralt was surprised to see that his Alpha's eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“We are truly _ready_ for the arrival of this babe now, aren’t we?” Jaskier muttered in a soft voice. Geralt nodded – feeling lighter than he could remember in weeks.

They were truly ready now.

* * *

By March, Geralt was thanking the Gods for his foresight, that he had built the shed _and_ Roach’s stable _and_ he had made a crib… While he still could.

He was almost eight months along now, and bending over or picking things up from the ground was becoming a challenge.

He also found himself struggling with the heat; although it was only March, March here in Mettina was apparently similar to _May_ in Temeria or Redania – that is to say, it could get quite warm if they had a few sunny days in rapid succession – which they have oft been having lately.

Geralt could have sworn that the sun’s rays were stronger here. When he sat outside, it almost felt like summer come early! He couldn’t walk to the market square anymore with the days this warm, but thankfully that wasn’t an issue – Jaskier was here to stay now and he took care of all their groceries and any other necessary shopping.

The one problem Jaskier couldn’t help him with was Geralt’s insomnia; he woke more and more frequently during the night, now that he had to sleep with a huge pregnant belly. He was rapidly becoming sick of sleeping on his side, but no other position was pheasible by this point.

Sex had also become increasingly challenging, to the point where Geralt really didn’t feel like doing it much anymore. Sex made him warm, which made him sweaty. His legs were swollen and he just generally felt gross or in pain most of the time (his back was _killing_ him). So he was turning down Jaskier's advances with increasing frequency.

He had apologised over the matter to Jaskier, but to his surprise, the Alpha had brushed him off.

“It’s not your fault – you are carrying _our babe!_ ” He had said fondly, taking the opportunity to stroke Geralt’s pregnant belly for emphasis. Then something seemed to have occurred to him, and he grinned mischievously. “Besides; I was just fine before the two of us started having sex together – I can always return to using my right hand… If I _must!_ ” The bard added with an exaggerated dramatic swoon.

"Poor you!" Geralt smirked, rolling his eyes – but then something occurred to him that made his mood turn sourer.

“You say that, but before the two of us, you used to see whores as well," Geralt said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. “I guess- I have no right to object if – if you wish to do so now… just until things return to normal—”

“No, Geralt,” Jaskier interjected forcefully. “I won’t do that! First of all, it is hardly a _‘_ need _’_ ; I can satisfy myself just as well with my hand – and secondly, it would hardly be fair for me to go out and have fun, when you are at home, sweating, feeling sleep-deprived and miserable - carrying _our_ unborn child. So – thank you, but my answer to that is a definite ‘no’!” Jaskier said decisively.

Geralt felt like a weight has been lifted from his chest, although he tried not to dwell on why that was so.

“Good,” He murmured, after a moment's silence, he added: “Thank you.”

Jaskier shook his head.

“I love you, you big oaf!”

Geralt was pulled into a hug, so he couldn’t protest against the undignified nickname.

* * *

“Only a month to go…” Geralt murmured, looking down at his huge, distended belly one morning.

He didn’t even understand how there was still _room_ inside of him for this babe to grow! He was already very-very round as it was. His poor belly was sporting more and more strechmarks by the day: the fresh ones an angry reddish-purplish colour, while the somewhat older ones fading to pink or white. 

Geralt wasn't vain, and he already had a plethora of scars - but these ones itched, so he wished that would stop at least.

"You are making me work for you, aren't you?" Geralt asked, addressing his bump, while stroking it gently. "You trying to teach me a lession in patience? I can't wait to see you, Little One." He said, sighing wistfully.

On one hand, he couldn’t wait for the babe to be here, so he wouldn’t feel so heavy and _miserable_ all the damn time… On the other hand, however, he was decidedly _not_ looking forward to the birth… Because it involved going through labour – which was a dangerous process, ending in death and tragedy far too often.

Geralt wasn’t afraid of dying himself – he was prepared for it, and he knew Jaskier could take care of their child, if need be.

His biggest fear was that something would go wrong during the birth and they would lose the babe.

He had no idea how he could cope with that. Even the very thought made his heart clench painfully. He stroked his hand over his rounded belly in soothing circles.

It was… unthinkable to lose this beautiful babe; their unborn child: the one he and Jaskier had been talking to for almost eight months now… To have to say goodbye to them would have been… terrible.

As selfish as the thought was, Geralt wasn’t sure if he would have wanted to carry on living if _that_ happened.

But then he thought of Jaskier, _his mate_ : and he realised he was being selfish. _Of course_ the death of their babe would impact his Alpha as well – perhaps almost as much as it would impact him… To add to that pain the added pain of having to grieve for a deceased spouse as well - Geralt didn’t even want to _imagine_ that kind of pain.

He couldn’t have coped with it if _anything_ happened to Jaskier…

So no – he knew he would have to bear it, live with it – whatever happened. Knowing that didn’t make things any easier though…

These were dark thoughts, so he tried not to dwell on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! :) Thank you for reading - I know this was quite a busy chapter, and it ended on quite a gloomy note. Sorry about that... Pregnancy is definitely making Geralt emotional, so he worries. :/ 
> 
> But I promise, the next chapter will be up soon (I am aiming for Monday 4th May)-! :) 
> 
> Comments and kudos are adored to bits as always!!! :3


	28. A Long Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt just wants to do the laundry and Jaskier wants to do the shopping, but they end up getting more done than they'd expected.

By mid-March, Geralt is not so much walking as _waddling_ when he needs to get somewhere. His belly is still extremely protruding and rounded in shape, but now it slopes downwards – like a sad melon ready for the picking.

Another delightful new symptom is the increased feeling of pressure ‘down there’. He figures it is normal… it just feels like the baby is sitting lower now. Right on his pelvic floor, very close to his bladder if the frequent urge to pee is anything to go by.

He gets legitimate _pains_ sometimes when the baby is moving – Geralt can feel the babe pressing against his organs, and against his pubic bone. Fuck, he would have never thought that pregnant people could feel that, but hell yes, they can, and it fucking _hurts._

His patience is definitely wearing thin: he can’t wait for this child to come out… But the baby still isn’t due for another four weeks.

* * *

Geralt had been experiencing random cramps and aches for a few weeks now, especially in his lower belly. They come and go, so he doesn’t think much of them. Changing positions or standing up usually makes the pains go away (except that puts pressure on his pelvic floor, so he is basically trading one kind of pain for another…).

It was no different on this particular morning. He woke up next to Jaskier and went outside to relieve himself. He felt better after his morning pee, but he noticed that his stomach was cramping a bit – yet again.

He ignored it and decided instead to focus on the things he wanted to get done today: he wanted to muck out Roach’s stable, cook something for lunch and then sort out their laundry in the afternoon, if the weather permitted it.

Although Geralt had developed a sensitivity for some scents, horse shit wasn’t amongst them, thankfully. He had no trouble cleaning out the small stable. He even changed the water in the trough, because it hadn’t rained in a while and it was becoming a bit stale.

“There you go, girl, that’s nicer, isn’t it?” He said to Roach. The mare certainly appeared to be in appreciative spirits; she let Geralt stroke her muzzle and the side of her neck without any objections. Afterwards, she even returned the favour, leaning in and rubbing the side of her face against Geralt’s head.

“Hm, you are growing soft in your old age, Roach,” Geralt murmured smiling at the horse softly. He looked around to make sure Jaskier wasn’t watching him – but no, there was no sign of the Alpha, he was probably still asleep – and once certain that there were no eye-witnesses, he put his arm against the mare’s neck, giving her a soft hug and some gentle pats just the way she liked it.

“Hmm, you’re a good horse Roach.” He said, and he was sure the mare had understood if the her pleased expression was anything to go by.

He had just let go of Roach’s neck when he realised he wasn’t alone anymore.

“Good morning, Darling!” Jaskier greeted him cheerfully, calling out through the open window.

“’Morning.”

“I’m about to cook breakfast. Would you like anything?”

“Hmm.” Geralt paused to think for a moment. “Yeah – something light. I’ll have bread with that jam we opened yesterday.”

“Great,” Jaskier agreed, nodding. “Just come on in whenever you’re ready!”

Geralt changed out of his ‘work clothes’ and washed his hands thoroughly before going inside.

They ate their breakfast in amicable silence.

“Looks like it’s going to be another beautiful day today,” Jaskier remarked, indicating the clear blue skies.

“Hmm. Too warm.” Geralt mumbled, chewing on a bite of bread.

“Aww, I know, Darling, I know…” Jaskier cooed at him. “That’s the nature of spring – especially here in Mettina, it seems! It is warmer than I expected it to be. If only I had known… maybe we should have moved somewhere further up North…” The Alpha added, looking slightly apologetic.

Geralt felt some of the tension evaporate from his shoulders as he shrugged.

“It’s not that bad. Besides, you couldn’t have known. It’s fine.”

“Mm, I’m glad you think so.” Jaskier gave him a grateful smile. “Your sensitivity to the heat - do you reckon it will get better once the babe is born? Or is this a Witcher thing?”

Geralt mused for a second, considering how many times he woke sweating during the past few weeks.

“I think it’s the pregnancy. It never used to be this bad.”

Jaskier smiled, clearly pleased. “Well, that should resolve itself in a few weeks then! Until then, we’ll just make sure to stay you hydrated.”

“I’m not an animal that needs looking after.” Geralt objected gruffly, but he accepted the glass of water Jaskier was offering to him. He took a sip and then he took another, because damn, he must have been a bit thirsty after all, and the water was delicious…

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jaskier replied, petting the Omega’s head affectionately.

Geralt had half a mind to bite him. He would, if Jaskier attempted to pet him again.

Thankfully, he didn’t.

“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” Jaskier asked, stretching languidly.

“Nothing much. I thought I’d do the laundry, and you get the shopping done? We need some supplies – I wrote a list for you.”

Jaskier nodded. “Yeah, I’ve noticed we’ve been running low on flour and yeast, amongst other things. Would you like me to go now or after lunch?”

Geralt shrugged.

“After lunch is fine.”

The Omega noticed that the cramps he had been having earlier that morning had become considerably milder, which put him into a good mood. Perhaps he had just been hungry after all.

He elected to do the cooking, while Jaskier went out to tend the garden. He cooked a hearty beef goulash with home-made noodles, carrots and potatoes – it was one of his absolute favourite dishes and he’d been itching to cook it for weeks now.

When it came to actually eating it though, Geralt found he wasn’t enthusiastic about the prospect at all – perhaps due to the slight cramping he could still feel in his abdomen.

He told Jaskier to eat, saying he would have some later perhaps.

“I think it would be good if you ate a little bit at least; you need to keep up your strength. I don’t want you fainting while you’re doing laundry!” Jaskier said gently, cajoling him.

His mate had a point, Geralt had to admit that. In the end, he gave himself a small portion of the thick soup and he grabbed a slice of bread to eat on the side. He found that it was more palatable this way, although he still found the goulash a bit heavy for his current tastes.

Jaskier eyed him suspiciously while he ate, but upon seeing that he had finished his portion, the Alpha seemed to relax somewhat.

“Well I’ll be on my way then.” Jaskier said, grabbing the grocery list and the knapsack they usually used to carry the produce home. “Take it easy while I’m away, okay? Laundry can wait until tomorrow; don’t do it if you don’t feel up to it…”

“With that attitude, nothing would ever get done.” Geralt mumbled to himself once Jaskier was out the door.

“I’ve heard that!” The Alpha shot back mock-indignantly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, but don’t wait up with dinner if you get hungry sooner than that. Bye!”

He was tempted to shout back that he couldn’t imagine getting hungry anytime soon, but he decided not to bother. As he stood up, he felt quite a strong cramp tear through him – it was the strongest one he had had in a while. He sat back down and used his hands to massage his belly and his lower back until the pain was gone. It went away fairly quickly.

“Right – let’s see to laundry then.”

Laundry was quite the ordeal. Geralt missed the days of living at inns where he could pay extra to have his clothes washed. He used to do his own laundry when coin was sparse, of course – using rivers or lakes, or whatever water he could find. It was a chore and it took the clothes ages to dry if the weather was chilly, so he preferred to get it done by others whenever he could.

At least here, he had two tubs at his disposal, set up in the shade of the big oak tree. Using a small bucket (nothing that would get too heavy once filled) he filled up both tubs with clean warm water from the well bit by bit, until they were mostly filled, and then he saw to the washing. There was a huge pile of clothes needing to be done, so he knew this would take a while.

As he was scrubbing away on the washboard, using some soap to try and loosen the worst of the stains, he winced and was forced to stop for a moment when another strong cramp hit. Thankfully, it would pass in a few seconds. Soon enough, he had settled into a rhythm – wash and scrub for a few minutes, then ride out a cramp for half a minute or so – walking seemed to help, as did using his thumb to rub at his lower back – and then repeat.

Having to lean over the washtub while he was working was definitely _not_ helping with the back pain. After a while Geralt realised that it was becoming harder to carry on after each painful cramp, and while in the beginning, the pain had been clearly localised to his belly, it was beginning to spread everywhere now: his whole body, all the muscles in his torso were tensing and contracting…

_Contracting. Like contractions?_

Just as the thought occurred to him, another pain shot through him and he had to grab onto the edge of the washtub so he wouldn’t keel over from the pain, although he still couldn’t suppress a slight moan.

 _No, no, no – this can’t be happening!_ He thought in alarm.

“Please, Little One, don’t come out just yet,” He murmured in a low voice, stroking the curve of his belly. “I know I had been moaning a lot about you lately and I’ve been saying that I can’t wait to meet you – but it’s not time yet. It’s supposed to be four more weeks… _Fuck!”_

Crap, the cramps weren’t lessening and if anything, it seemed that they were coming a bit more frequently now.

Wincing, Geralt tried to think to figure out when the pains had started – he could remember feeling them this morning when he woke, although they were much-much milder then, and perhaps even before that…? Yes, he had felt some mild contractions during the night, but he had thought it was nothing, that it was just a fluke like the others had been; he got them almost daily, but they tended to go away on their own…

He looked around. He was standing at the end of their little garden next to the laundry, which was about half-way done. His perception of time was likely all messed up, but judging from the sun’s position the Omega could tell that there were a good few hours left until sunset: Jaskier had promised to be back by then. That wasn’t far away now – four-five hours at most.

He was sure about one thing: he _did not_ want to have this baby until Jaskier got home. His water hadn’t broken yet – based on his knowledge of how animal birthed, Geralt knew that the water had to break before the pushing started.

So that meant he still had time.

“Let’s sort this out and then I’ll call Yen.” Geralt muttered, having made his decision. It would be better to have the laundry done; he guessed he wouldn’t feel like doing it for a while after the babe was born anyway.

He continued washing the garments with renewed vigour.

Through trial and error, Geralt discovered that shifting his weight from one leg to the other and breathing in a deep, even rhythm helped with the pain. Unintentionally, he found himself humming a familiar melody as he was working… It was none other than the dreaded “ _Toss a Coin to your Witcher_ ” song… Despite himself, he kept humming the old, well-liked tune. It seemed to help time go faster, and it provided a welcome distraction from the cramps.

Soon enough, he found himself falling into a satisfying rhythm: between the ever-repeating melody and the soothing monotony of the washing process (scrubbing, rinsing, wringing and hanging onto the line to dry; grabbing another few garbs; repeat), he was able to relax and lose himself.

By the time all of their clothes were hung on the line to dry, the contractions had gone from somewhat distracting to all-consuming; they just wouldn’t be ignored any longer. Whenever a wave would hit, Geralt would need to grab onto something and breathe deeply for almost a minute or so, until it passed. His water still hadn’t broken though…

“Well, Little One… I guess we can’t put it off any longer – time to call Yen…” Geralt murmured between clenched teeth as he began the seemingly long journey (which in reality, was only about ten meters) from the oak tree to the doorstep of their home – leaving the washtubs full of dirty water behind himself; Jaskier would need to sort those out later… As much as it pained him, Geralt had to admit that he couldn’t empty them right now.

He had almost made it when another contraction hit him and he was forced to lean forward, bracing himself on his knees until the pain had passed.

Then finally, he was inside. As he had expected it, Jaskier wasn’t back yet. Geralt went to their bedroom to look for the box with Yen’s amulet inside of it, to call the sorceress as they had agreed all those months ago.

He was slightly nervous as he thought about making the call – what if Yen wouldn’t her it? What if she wasn’t home? He tried to push the worrying thoughts aside – there was nothing he could do about that, he just needed to try and hope for the best…

He went straight to Jaskier’s bedside table, where he had last seen the box…

Only to notice that it wasn’t there.

“ _Fuck!”_ Geralt cursed, hissing in pain. “Son of a whore…!”

He had been certain that the box would be there… He went and checked his own bedside table as well - the trinket wasn’t in there either.

Feeling increasingly frantic, he waddled over to the living room next, going through all their cupboards; all of their hiding places where they usually stashed coin and valuables… Without any luck. And then he went back to the bedroom as fast as he could and he looked into their wardrobe, checking it thoroughly from top-to-bottom and the same with their chest-of-drawers, thinking that maybe somebody had put it there by mistake…

But no, the box was nowhere to be found.

“Fuck, fuck, _where is it?!_ ” He shouted out loud in desperation, moaning quietly in pain as another contraction hit him. He grabbed onto the windowsill and waited for it to pass. Fuck, the stress and the panic was definitely making the pains hurt more – Geralt knew he needed to collect himself, to calm down…

Suddenly, he recalled his training in Kaer Morhen, specifically one teaching Vesemir had drilled into all of them, into all the young Witchers: if you are injured, remain calm – because your survival may depend on it. They had learnt, they had practiced how to calm themselves, even if they were terrified, losing in a fight or in severe pain… It hadn’t been fun, it had been a gruelling lesson – one of the worst they had had to endure during their training – but Geralt had made it through, he had _learnt_ how to do it and he could still rely on that skill whenever he needed it during a particularly difficult hunt or a fight –so perhaps he could call upon it now as well…?

Geralt felt his strength return to him as he reminded himself that he had grappled with worse situations before; this was but another one. Not better, not worse.

Yes, he _could_ do this…

“I can do it!” Geralt said out loud decisively, into the quiet of their bedroom. The only sounds were his own pants and pained gasps. He forced himself to sit down onto the bed, although all of his instincts were _screaming_ at him to continue his search for the damned amulet box, - he ignored them and waited for his breathing to slow and regulate itself; just like he had practised to do it when he was meditating. The pains kept coming and going, waves cresting and breaking, then ebbing away… And after a few long minutes, Geralt could feel them becoming increasingly manageable, bearable – yet again.

They were no less intense than they were before but sitting here without worries and distractions clouding his mind, he was _able to do this_ : he could breathe through the contractions, allowing them to wash over him, yielding to them instead of trying to fend them off tooth and nail as he had been doing before, unconsciously…

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay. Jaskier will get home.” He said, feeling a touch more calm now caressing his belly – and smiling a little bit for the first time since morning. He sighed. “ _What a day_ Little One! What a day… Oh, here it comes!...”

Geralt kept breathing; shifting positions occasionally when his body nudged him to do so.

Suddenly, his eyes shot wide open.

“ _It’s in the lute case!_ ”

He remembered the old memory suddenly with startling clarity: Jaskier had told him that he was putting the box into his lute case, right after they had moved into this house - more than three months ago now.

There had been so many things to remember at the time – Geralt had totally forgotten about this piece of information…Until now.

He stood up carefully; he threw the wardrobe doors open and he grabbed Jaskier’s kit, pulling the old, worn lute case from it – and indeed, the little black box was in there, nestled safely at the bottom of the case; it would have been hard to find if one didn’t know what to look for.

Jaskier had put it there because he thought it would be well-protected – and it clearly was!

 _Too well_ , almost!

Geralt scoffed at the thought, smiling slightly as he lifted the box out with shaking hands, dropping it onto the bed and scrabbling to open it. As soon as he had the amulet in hand, he was calling out to Yen: chanting her name over and over…

He waited for what felt like hours, although it had likely only been about ten to fifteen minutes – when suddenly, there was a knock on the front door.

“Come on in!” He called, voice strained from the pain.

“It’s me, Geralt!” It was Yennefer’s voice. “Let me in, the door’s locked!”

Oh crap, he’d forgotten that he had locked it… He stood up as quickly as he could, going over to the living room, to let Yen in… And suddenly, he could feel a gush of warm fluid pouring down his legs, soaking his pants and his smallclothes instantly.

For a moment he thought that he’d pissed himself until he remembered that it was likely his waters…

“Fuck!” He muttered, but he marched on, using what felt like superhuman effort to get to the other end of the room – until finally, he was there, opening the door.

Geralt was surprised to see that it wasn’t just Yen waiting for him outside – Tissaia was there as well.

“Oh, hello,” He greeted them awkwardly.

“Geralt, are you okay?” Yen asked, voice thick with concern as she looked down at Geralt’s soaked breeches. The Omega could feel himself flush with embarrassment.

“Oh yes, that’s… I think my water has just broken.”

Tissaia stepped forward.

“Well, let’s get you inside – I want you on the bed, and I need to take a look at the fluid, to make sure it isn’t blood or something else.”

Geralt nodded, feeling surprisingly relieved about somebody taking charge. Yen put an arm around him, helping him walk the short way back to the bedroom, where they promptly divested him of his breeches and his smallclothes. Geralt waited anxiously for Tissaia to speak again.

“Looks like water and it’s clear – everything seems be in order.” The older sorceress said, turning to Geralt. “How long had you been experiencing contractions?”

“Since this morning.” He replied without hesitation. “It may have started during the night, but it was very mild – I was able to sleep...”

“And you didn’t call for us until now?” Tissaia said, raising an elegant eyebrow in question.

“I was busy with the laundry.” Geralt said defensively. “And then I couldn’t find the amulet to call you, I couldn’t remember where we had put it… And Jaskier went to get groceries… He should be back soon…” He winced as a slight cramp hit yet again. “He didn’t know I was going into labour, because _I_ didn’t think anything of the pains, until they started picked up during the afternoon while I was doing the washing...”

“Ah, okay. Well, the good news is – you’ll meet your babe soon.” The rectoress drawled sarcastically.

Geralt gasped.

“What? No-no – I was hoping Jaskier would be here before... _Oh fucck!”_ He hissed as a proper contraction hit him just then. He stopped talking and focused on breathing through it instead.

Tissaia tutted disapprovingly.

“Now-now, that isn’t up for you to decide; your body will tell you when you need to push. It would be dangerous to try and delay that. We are here – you are in safe hands. You can do this, Geralt.” The rectoress said, looking at him earnestly. He could feel a strange sense of… kinship as their gaze met.

He could feel his eyes widen in surprise.

“You’re—are you an _Omega?_ ”

Geralt couldn’t believe it that he hadn’t realised that sooner, but – well… perhaps it was his own internalised prejudice against his own kind; it just hadn’t even occurred to him that an Omega could possibly hold a position as powerful as the one Tissaia had gained for herself – but apparently, it _was_ possible.

Tissaia smirked. “Takes one to know one. I’ve told you you’re in good hands. Now, tell me what you are feeling – are you getting the urge to push yet?”

Geralt shook his head. “No, just – the contractions – getting more intense now…”

“Yes, that would be a result of your waters breaking.” Tissaia said. “Now – let’s divest with modesty – I need to check you down there to see how far along you are, and I will need to do so time and time again, to check your progress.”

Geralt was beyond caring by that point… He supposed there wasn’t much point in trying to preserve a semblance of privacy – he was already naked from the waist down and they would be witnessing him pushing a child out of his body soon, after all…

Tissaia instructed Yen to help Geralt get onto his back, and she helped him spread his legs, so Tissaia could get between them, until Geralt could feel careful fingers touching his sex.

“I am going to check your cervix, so you’ll feel my fingers entering you now.”

Geralt nodded, waiting anxiously to know more. There was no pain as Tissaia pressed careful fingers inside his rim, and he could feel it when she had found the birth canal and pushed through it to reach his cervix; he winced slightly in discomfort at the feeling of fingers prodding him there, deep inside his body. He much preferred the way Jaskier’s cock had felt against that place in the throes of heat…

“You are more than half-way there.” Tissaia said, removing her fingers carefully. “The babe will be here soon.”

Tissaia went to wash her hands and bid Yennefer to do the same. Geralt was left on his own, instructed to keep breathing and to call them if he felt any changes.

Soon, Yennefer came back into the room, bearing a large tub and some clean linen cloths.

“How are you feeling?” She asked gently, settling back next to Geralt.

“Been better.” Geralt replied with a grunt.

The sorceress scoffed.

“I bet! You are doing well though. Tissaia seems confident that everything is going okay.”

“Hmm.”

There was a beat of silence, which was broken by Geralt’s pained grunts when another contraction hit.

Yennefer was sitting next to him, whispering words of encouragement. They stayed like this for a long time – possibly half an hour or even more. Geralt could smell that Tissaia was making tea outside, and probably some sort of herbal concoction as well; he didn’t recognise the scent, but it was soothing.

After a particularly hard contraction, he ground out: “How long until sunset?”

“What?” Yen asked back in confusion.

“How long until sunset? Jaskier is due back then.”

“Oh! Hmmm… it can’t be more than an hour away now. Would you like me to try and find him for you?” Yennefer asked looking at him sincerely.

Geralt felt tempted to say ‘yes’, to let her do that… but he knew that it may be hard to find Jaskier – and if he sent Yen away, he would be left with Tissaia only… he preferred Yen’s company to the scary rectoress anyday.

“No – but thank you,” He said, flashing her a brief smile – that turned into a grimace quickly as the next pain was on him.

“Fuck! They seem to be coming very close together now,” Yen said in awe.

Geralt nodded in agreement. Suddenly, he felt something shift inside of him, and there was a feeling of pressure in his lower body.

“Fuck – they’ve shifted lower, I think!” Geralt said. “Fuck – I think – I want to try to get on my hands and knees... can I--?”

“I dunno, let me check!” Yen said, calling out to Tissaia. “Tissaia, is it okay for Geralt to change positions?”

“No – tell him to wait!”

“I can hear you both!” Geralt shouted in exasperation.

Tissaia appeared in the door with a _smirk_ on her face, of all things…

“Apologies, but I didn’t want you to go through the trouble of turning before I checked you again. Let’s see if you’re there yet.”

Geralt was tempted to ask her where “there” was, but he suppressed the urge, nodding in agreement instead. He could feel Tissaia’s fingers as she was checking him again, and this time the sorceress was much quicker about it.

“You can get on your hands and knees – it will be time to push soon.” She declared.

“Fuck…” Geralt murmured, feeling defeated. “Where’s Jaskier?” 

“The sun is almost setting – he will be here soon!” Yen said.

“I need him – _fuck_!” He shouted out the curse as a particularly painful contraction hit him.

“Geralt, do you wanna get on your hands and knees?” Yennefer asked him again, once the pain had passed. “Or would you rather stand up and walk around a bit perhaps?”

Geralt shook his head vehemently.

“No-no walking! Yes – I want to turn…”

Thankfully, Yen could understand him even from snippets, and she helped him turn around onto all fours on the bed. As he shifted, the pressure in the lower part of his groin became even more intense – and suddenly he had no doubt that _that_ was his babe’s head bearing down on his cervix, trying to find their way out… It dawned on him then –

 _Fuck_ , this babe was coming, whether Jaskier was here or not…

“Fuck, I think I need to push!” Geralt exclaimed, clutching onto the bedsheets beneath his palms.

Tissaia’s voice boomed from somewhere next to him.

“It’s okay, you can – when the next contraction comes, you can go ahead and push.” She said in a calm, clear voice. “Pause when the contraction ends and wait for the next one before you begin pushing - again. Pace yourself. Save your strength.”

Geralt nodded in agreement, clenching his teeth, resisting the urge to try and push before the contraction came. He didn’t have to wait long: the next one took over suddenly, and Geralt tried to use it, taking the opportunity to push…

He did it - again and again, over and over, but he could barely feel any change in the pressure. Suddenly, he understood why Tissaia had told him to pace himself; this could take a long time…

“I feel like I’m not making any progress,” Geralt panted between two pushes.

“You are – I can tell,” Tissaia said. “If you want to feel your progress, go ahead and put one of your hands down there – try and feel for the head.”

 _What?_ That was impossible! It couldn’t be within reach… yet…

Could it?

Geralt found himself reaching down between his legs, before he had even decided to do so, putting his fingers over his opening – but he couldn’t feel anything. He felt Tissaia’s fingers close around his wrist – and ever so gently, the sorceress helped him slip two of his own fingers just barely past his opening…

And there it was: his babe’s head.

“ _Fuck_!” Geralt could feel tears gather in his eyes at the feeling. “Fuck- fuck!”

Now that the babe was within reach, he was pushing on each contraction with renewed enthusiasm. With every push, he could feel the pressure between his legs increasing, as his babe was slipping further and further into his birth canal.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to bow his back, pressing his whole body back towards his legs, and then leaning slightly forward before doing it yet again… He found that this helped him get a better feel for _where_ he needed to push… If he could only bear down strongly enough…

“Oh, fuck, _Jaskier!!!!_ ” Geralt shouted his mate’s name and “ _fuck-fuck_ ” over and over as he felt the babe finally move even lower…

On the next push, he could feel the pressure increase a thousand-times fold and then there was a slight burning feeling – and then something gave, and his babe’s head was in his hand, outside of his body.

“Oh fuck!” Geralt cried, looking down in awe and shock.

“Well done! Wait for your next contraction and then give another push – and you’ll be done!” Tissaia said, voice warm and encouraging.

It was the hardest thing _in the world_ to wait until the next contraction hit, but Geralt made it – he pushed two more times and his babe was slipping out of him, landing in his hands.

“Oh, Gods!” Geralt was shaking from exhaustion, but he was holding the baby very gently and carefully, pulling him up and snuggling him against his chest, and then the babe moved – and slowly but surely, it began to wail.

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He was smiling through his tears as he held his babe, rocking them gently.

Yennefer helped Geralt turn so he could lay back against the pillows, with the baby still on his chest.

“Sssh, it’s okay… it’s okay…” Geralt muttered softly at the little baby who was beginning to cry in earnest now.

Suddenly, there was a sound at the door and the sound of urgent footsteps crossing the living room.

“Geralt? Is that--?” Jaskier’s voice broke as he saw his mate with their new-born child on his chest. “Oh sweet Melitele!!!”

His Alpha was by his side in a flash, hugging him and kissing his temple. “Oh Gods, Geralt – that’s the most beautiful babe I’ve ever seen… I’m sorry I wasn’t here, but you’re fantastic – you’ve made it! You’ve made it through!”

“ _We’ve_ made it!” Geralt said, smiling up at Jaskier as he leant into his touch. The babe was still wailing loudly, but it was okay, everything was going to be okay now…

“Is it a girl or a boy?” Jaskier whispered tenderly.

“I haven’t looked,” Geralt said, realising that he hadn’t even thought about that until now… It didn’t matter, truly, but he was still curious, so he lifted the baby a little bit to peer down at him…

Jaskier huffed, laughter in his voice. “Huh, that’s definitely a boy!! I was right!”

Geralt felt immense happiness flood him. A boy… he had a son… He hugged the little baby tighter to his chest, feeling even more enamoured with him now – although he hadn’t thought that was even possible…

Suddenly, the moment was broken as Tissaia stepped in.

“Jaskier, would you mind standing to the side? I need to attend to Geralt.”

The Alpha obeyed the sorceress without hesitation, giving his mate’s shoulder one last squeeze before he stepped away.

Tissaia worked quickly – she cut the cord, handed the baby off to Yennefer _– just to be cleaned and bathed –_

“May I have a look at your belly?” She asked suddenly.

Geralt frowned but he nodded. He was surprised when he felt Tissaia’s hands on his abdomen, touching it and pressing down on it gently…

And fuck – no, that _couldn’t be…_

He looked up at Tissaia with wide eyes. “Is that – is there-- ?” He asked, voice strained.

“Another babe inside of you?” The sorceress asked, smiling. “It sure is. I was just checking their position in your womb…”

 _“What?”_ Jaskier shouted suddenly. “What? No – that’s…” He said, looking at the babe Yennefer was currently bathing, and then back at Geralt. “You mean… we are having _twins?_ ”

Yennefer was just looking at him with a smug expression, like always.

“Fuck, you knew!” Jaskier exclaimed in realisation. “Oh hell – couldn’t you have said something? We didn’t prepare…”

“It’s considered bad luck – I’ve told you so,” Tissaia said, apparently considering the matter closed. “Geralt, I need you to concentrate,” She said firmly. “You are not done yet - this child needs to be born as well. You will have time to bond with your first-born later.”

Geralt nodded shakily.

“Okay – can Jaskier stay?” He asked, voicing the first thought that came to mind.

Tissaia smiled. “Yes, as long as he promises not to get in the way.”

Jaskier was looking at them with shining eyes.

“I won’t!”

Geralt felt relief flood him and then he was focusing on his body again. He noticed with dismay that he wasn’t feeling the urge to push.

“Let me check your belly again,” Tissaia said, seeming to read his thoughts. For all he knew, perhaps she was doing just that. Geralt looked on anxiously as Tissaia put her hand on his abdomen again, this time so that there was that familiar blue light shining through it again. “Okay, the babe is not at your cervix yet – that’s why you aren’t feeling the urge to push. It may help if you stand up, so the babe will gravitate downwards…”

“Okay,” Geralt said slowly, trying to calm and gather himself. “Okay.”

Standing up after having just given birth felt like shit – thankfully there was still a lot of adrenaline coursing through his veins but he could still feel a dull, throbbing pain where his opening had just been stretched far beyond its usual capacity. He winced a bit, but it wasn’t too bad. Jaskier leant him a hand, draping his arm over and under his own, so he could lean his weight on it. That helped a bit, it felt good to have someone to hold onto.

“Walk around a bit, if you can,” Tissaia said gently. “Do what feels natural.”

Sitting the fuck down would have felt more natural, Geralt was tempted to say, but he swallowed the angry retort down, obeying the sorceresses words.

He walked around a bit with Jaskier by his side, and then he got on the bed, getting onto all-fours again, to test if that would help him feel where the babe was, as it had helped with the first one. He swayed gentle from one side to the other, leaning forwards and then backwards…

“You can try and feel for him – through your belly.”

Geralt followed Tissaia’s instruction without hesitation, and he felt amazed when he felt the change – his belly felt different from before! It was less full now, but yes, he could definitely feel the second baby now – he or she was there.

Jaskier was standing next to him, bringing a cool damp cloth to Geralt’s forehead to dab at his temple gently. The feeling felt heavenly, and he groaned.

“Sorry, am I hurting you?” Jaskier asked, pulling away – but Geralt grabbed onto his hand.

“No, it’s good. Carry on.”

Jaskier didn’t need to be told twice. Between the pleasant feeling of a cool cloth being pressed against his forehead and his nape, and the feeling of his babe under his fingertips, Geralt felt himself calming down.

He stood up and walked around a while longer, holding onto Jaskier’s hand and bending his knees, in the beginnings of as squat now and then. Tissaia was encouraging him to do that, and to keep feeling for the babe; Geralt did, and it was certainly helping… the babe was definitely getting lower now, he could feel the pressure on his pelvic floor getting stronger again.

“I think I need to push.” Geralt hissed through gritted teeth.

Tissaia urged him to get on the bed and Geralt did, getting on his hands and knees, because it felt right, it felt good to feel the weight of the babe, the pressure urging him to push…

He pushed through the next contraction, and through the one after that and after that. Just like before, it was taking longer than he thought it would; this time, he was pretty sure something was wrong – the babe just wasn’t moving lower… he was right there, Geralt could feel it… but just wouldn’t – or couldn’t get past something, some internal gate…

Geralt screamed with effort as another big contraction came and he bore down, again. He must have been hurting Jaskier, he was gripping the Alpha’s hand so tightly clutching it to his chest.

“That’s it! You are doing well! You’re doing so well, that’s it!” Jaskier was murmuring gently, stroking his sweaty forehead, brushing the hair out of his face…

“It’s not working!” Geralt grunted, feeling frustration and panic creeping into him again.

“Let me check you,” Tissaia said firmly, but not unkindly. She placed one hand on Geralt’s abdomen and the other on his entrance, pushing a few careful fingers inside, gently.

“Geralt, I need you to turn onto your back, lie down against the pillows… That’s it…” She said, helping him, coaching him through the change of position.

Once Geralt was there, Tissaia looked into his eyes again, talking to him slowly and clearly once more: “Good, now I need you to bend your legs and spread them and hold them in place… You can show Jaskier if you need any help, holding them...”

Geralt got into the position easily – thank goodness for his flexibility. He feel tension creeping into his neck and shoulders, and decided to do something about it before he could think better of it.

“Jaskier, could you hold my shoulders?” Geralt asked.

“You mean like so?” The Alpha asked, putting warm, sure hands onto the Omega’s shoulders, close to his nape. He must have noticed how notice Geralt was because he began to knead the muscle gently, and causing the Omega to sigh in pleasure. “Is this good?”

“Yes… very good. Keep going…”

The massage was helping, and Geralt was able to pull his legs closer, pressing himself against Jaskier’s clever-clever fingers… And then finally, blessedly, he felt the pressure on his pelvic floor increasing again: the babe sitting right in that place inside of him, just barely out of his reach!

A contraction hit and he pushed again, listening to Jaskier’s and Tissaia’s encouragements… But nothing seemed to be happening, there was no shift – Geralt grunted in frustration. Belatedly, he realised that the sorceress’s fingers were inside of him again: it seemed like she was checking the progress of the baby, or checking whether he was dilated enough, perhaps?

“What’s happening?” Geralt asked, glimpsing at the sorceress anxiously.

Thankfully, Tissaia seemed calm and her voice steady as she spoke.

“I am going to help you, Geralt. I’ll help you get your baby out - now, okay?”

Geralt nodded without hesitation. He wanted nothing more than to have his second baby safe and sound in his arms already, so he could relax… He was so-so tired: tired from all the pushing, from the endless contractions that kept coming every minute…

“On the next contraction, I want you to bear down.” Tissaia instructed. “There’s no need to push hard, but try and push for the whole duration of the contraction. Ride the wave when it comes.”

“Okay.” Geralt agreed. _I’ll try_ – he wanted to add… because he wasn’t sure if he was even capable of doing as she asked him to do by this point…

Tissaia seemed to read his thoughts, and she stroked one of her hands down his shin firmly, bringing his attention back to her.

“You can do it – it will be over soon.” She sounded calm and _sure_ , and her words helped propel himself into a calmer state of mind as well, as he nodded.

Geralt took a deep breath, trying to enjoy the brief break he was having at the moment. Jaskier was still there behind him and Geralt grabbed one of his hands to have something to hold onto.

The contraction was suddenly upon him and Geralt did his best: bearing down as long as he could… He felt a burning sensation near his entrance, followed by the feeling of pressure…

“That’s your baby’s leg,” Tissaia said. “Come on, just one or two more pushes and they’ll be here!”

On the next contraction, Geralt pushed with all he had, and he could actually _feel_ the baby shifting downwards this time!

The contraction seemed to go on forever, and he kept pushing through it, bearing down and shouting and screaming with the pain… And then suddenly, the pressure was gone.

“Oh Gods, Geralt!! You did it! You did it!” Going by his voice, Jaskier was crying, and he was stroking Geralt’s hand – the one Geralt had been squeezing while he was struggling to push their babe into the world…

“Congratulations,” Tissaia said with a wide smile, holding up the wet, slimy new-born, putting them onto Geralt’s belly. “You’ve got a beautiful baby girl.”

Geralt blinked, struggling to process her words. “A girl?”

Tissaia nodded. “Yes, that’s right – it’s a girl! You have a son _and_ a daughter.”

“Fuck…” Geralt muttered quietly, pretty sure that he was gaping, as he looked up at Jaskier in disbelief. “Did you hear that Jaskier?...”

But Jaskier was busy cooing down at their newborn daughter. “Oh, hello _beautiful_! Look, Geralt – she’s got her eyes open!”

And that was when Geralt finally looked down at his chest, taking a closer look at their daughter – and he melted instantly. The little baby was looking up at him, holding her hands out… She was clearly awake, moving, wiggling and blinking at them, but she wasn’t crying- yet…

“Oh, Gods…” Geralt murmured, holding the little baby girl, and pulling her onto his chest more fully. As he was inspecting her, he noticed that she looked different than her brother – she was a little leaner, and she had the cutest little button nose Geralt had ever seen…

Geralt moved his hand, bringing it up to touch her face gently. She was lying on her side, so he turned her onto her stomach, so she could lye flush on his chest – and that’s when she began to wail.

“Aww, it’s okay little one!” Jaskier said softly. “There, there, getting born is hard work, isn’t it?”

Geralt couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. “Tell me about it.”

“Ah, sorry!” Jaskier corrected himself, looking at least a tiny bit bashful…

It was all a blur after that. At some point, the afterbirth was born. Then Tissaia inspected him down there and she declared that he didn’t need any stitches, because the tears were minor; his body would heal itself more efficiently without them.

At some point, their daughter was carried off to be bathed, and Yennefer brought his son back to Geralt, and he was able to hold him and look at him more closely. He was fast asleep now, and he looked peaceful, like a little angel. He was definitely the chubbier one out of the two of them; he was ripe with baby fat and Geralt noted that the baby’s nose was more like his own; but he had Jaskier’s ears without a doubt – pointy and elongated in shape.

Jaskier came back with their daughter in his arms, swaddled tightly in a piece of cream-coloured wool. He sat down on the bed next to his mate.

Geralt gestured to the baby in his arms. “He’s perfect.” He murmured softly, not wanting to disturb the baby’s slumber.

“They’re both perfect.” Jaskier said thickly, tilting their daughter so that Geralt could see her well too, and Geralt realised then that she was asleep as well.

To his surprise, his Alpha leant in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Sleep now, my dear… It’s almost midnight. You must be exhausted…”

Jaskier was right of course… Geralt could feel his eyelids drooping earlier, and that feeling was fast returning… And yet – when Jaskier reached his hand out, motioning him to hand their son over to him, Geralt found he was almost reluctant to let them go… Like he was afraid of them disappearing; which was ridiculous, of course…

Jaskier seemed to understand him, thankfully, as the Alpha gave him an encouraging smile.

“Don’t worry, they’ll be in good hands – Yen and Tissaia are still here. They said they’d stay the night, just in case…”

Geralt felt relief flood him at hearing that.

“Thank you – and I’m sorry- I know that you’re fully capable—it’s just…”

Jaskier grinned. “You’re worried to let go of this precious cargo? Can’t fault you for that!” The Alpha said, crooning at their first-son, their son, as he took him from Geralt’s arms, putting him over his shoulder gently. “He is the cutest little baby boy I’d ever seen… And she is the prettiest little baby girl…”

“Hmm – think you may be partial?” Geralt asked smirking.

“Me?!” Jaskier protested, mock-offended. “Never!- And I also happen to think that their Mummy is the most beautiful Omega in the whole wide world. ‘Knew it since the moment I first laid eyes on him… Mmmh, I’d give you another kiss, but both of my hands are full…”

Geralt chortled. “Go, you idiot of an Alpha.”

“Sleep well, Sweetling.”

“You too. Don’t stay up too long… Come and sleep next to me…”

Jaskier promised that he would, and then he left the room, closing the door behind himself gently.

It was then that it occurred to Geralt that they had no guest bed or guest bedroom... Then again, Yennefer and Tissaia were two of the continent’s most powerful sorceresses; they could conjure up a bed for themselves if they so desired, surely… and if not, they had a spare tent in the shed, Jaskier could surely offer it to them…

He closed his eyes and he was out like light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God.  
> I can’t believe we’ve made it so far, guys!!! Omg, the baby--- I mean babies, plural – are born!!! Surprise, surprise! 😊 
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or a medical student or anything like that. I wrote the birth scene based on the best of my knowledge, but it is highly likely that there are many inaccuracies in it – please keep this in mind, don’t use this scene for medical advice, ok? Always consult your doctor, OB/GYN when in doubt! Thanks.  
> For those who are interested in the “technical side” of Geralt’s birth: the twins were in quite a common position, where one of them (the first-born) was presenting head-first, and the second twin was presenting as complete breech (butt first, legs and feet in cross-legged position next to the hips).  
> The first twin was therefore born quite easily, since they were in the “right position”. When it came to getting the second twin out, Tissaia asked Geralt to try walking around and getting on all fours, because sometimes the second baby may flip spontaneously soon after the first baby is born; but that didn’t happen for Geralt, the second twin remained in the complete breech presentation.  
> Tissaia then, using her medical knowledge, decided that the safest option was to do what they call a ‘total breech extraction’ – that is when the physician helps the second twin be born by reaching up manually inside the uterus, grasping one or both ankles, and pulling them gently downwards: freeing both legs (or one leg at a time if the baby is in ‘frank breech’ position), then the hips, the arms (Lovset manoeuvre) and finally, the head (Bracht’s manoeuvre).  
> Bringing a second twin to the world this way is actually surprisingly safe, because the cervix is already dilated - due to the previous twin’s head having spent a long time getting through there! So the second twin can ‘slip out’ relatively easily, even in a breech position, if there is a skilled obstetrician who can help deliver them vaginally. (I even read some studies which found that when twins are being born vaginally, in terms of outcomes, it makes *no difference* whether the second twin comes out head-first or as breech – both are equally safe for mum and baby! – Note: This isn’t true in case it is the *first* twin who is presenting as breech and the second twin is head-down… That’s a much more complicated and potentially dangerous situation, the babies could get stuck etc..).  
> So basically: Geralt’s babies were in a fairly good position, plus Tissaia has the skills of a trained obstetrician in this fic – so thankfully, everything turned out all right! 😊  
> Baby names will be revealed in the next chapter – weee!!! :D  
> I hope you enjoyed reading about the birth. I’d love to hear your thoughts if you wanna share!! 😊 I’m open to constructive criticism too – doctors and nurses reading this – correct me! :D
> 
> Also, just a heads-up: I am planning to end this story in 3-4 more chapters. We will find out more about the babies and Geralt/Jaskier’s future, don’t worry! 😊


	29. A Little Family Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Jaskier settle into life as new parents.

The next two weeks seemed to have passed in a blink of an eye.

Yennefer and Tissaia had been lovely; they had helped ensure Geralt and Jaskier got a bit of sleep in the first couple of days.

They would have probably been happy to stay even longer, but on day three Geralt told them in uncertain terms that he was taking over caring for the babies full-time from hereon-out. They were welcome to coddle the babes, but Geralt wanted to get the hang of nappy-changing, feeding and naps in between – and that was hard to do when there were not one but _two_ enthusiastic sorceresses around to do either or both!

(Yeah, sorceresses could apparently turn cow’s milk into mother’s milk – go figure.)

“Well, if you’re both certain you’ll be okay, I guess _we_ might as well take our leave,” Yennefer said, looking at Tissaia meaningfully. Geralt could have sworn that the older sorceress’s face became slightly flushed at Yennefer’s purposeful intonation of the word ‘we’… But she didn’t correct her partner’s choice of pronouns. Geralt couldn’t help the slight smile that came over his face as he looked over the two of them, especially when Yennefer took Tissaia’s hand – a clearly possessive, very Alpha-like gesture – and even more incredibly: when Tissaia followed.

They had barely portalled away when Jaskier stepped up next to Geralt, looking after the sorceresses through the open door.

“Well, look at those two lovebirds! Who would have thought?” The Alpha said, shaking his head but smiling fondly. “An unlikely pair they make!”

Geralt scoffed.

“No less likely than the two of us.”

“Hmm, I guess I’m biased. But I can’t help it: I’d known I wanted you from day one.”

Geralt gave Jaskier a sceptical look – his Alpha was prone to exaggerations and that certainly sounded like one. The bard rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Well okay, I wanted to _fuck you_ from day one! Didn’t know you were _the One_ for me until… day fifty-seven. Or fifty-eight.”

“That’s an oddly specific guess,” Geralt murmured.

He leant in to caress Jaskier’s slightly stubbly face softly. The Alpha had less time to shave in the past three days and it was showing. Geralt found it charming.

“I’m a bard: remembering stories in keen detail is a crucial part of my trade. And well…” Jaskier faltered for a second, looking hesitant before he continued. “I _might_ have written a love song to you – and I always date my works, so I know exactly when that was…”

“A love song?” Geralt asked incredulously. Jaskier had never mentioned _that_ before!

Jaskier gave him an incredulous look.

“Oh come on! I _am_ a bard – of course I’ve written love songs to you… I wrote many, in fact! That was only the first one…”

Geralt felt stunned at his mate’s admission, but he felt a spreading warmth in his chest at the thought of Jaskier looking at him and desiring him – before there was even any sort of physical relationship between the two of them.

Suddenly, another thought occurred to him.

“On the day I went to collect you from Blaviken – you were playing a song in your room… I was sitting under your window and I – _hmm_ , I may have -- overheard it…” He said, his voice going deep from embarrassment. He chanced a look at Jaskier, who was looking back at him in apparent confusion.

“Hmm, sorry I don’t recall that?” His mate replied, shrugging.

Geralt frowned. He wondered if there was any point in continuing if Jaskier truly didn’t recall the incident, but he found himself carrying on regardless: the words just tumbling from his mouth.

“Well, I do – it was a sad song, about heartbreak, and,” Geralt coughed a bit, trying to soften his voice so what he was about to say would hopefully come out sounding neutral rather than gruff or mocking. “Hmm, it sounded like you were crying…?”

Jaskier froze, and he looked away, a hot flush spreading on his cheeks. “That could have been many a song. Why are you bringing this up now?”

_Why indeed?_

“Because… At the time, I thought you were singing about the Countess. But now - I wonder…” Geralt began explain slowly, weighing up each word carefully as he spoke.

All of his instincts were screaming at him _not to voice_ the question that was on the tip of his tongue - lest he be hurt by the other’s reply…

But, well – Jaskier had just confessed that he had loved him since nearly the beginning… So perhaps what he was thinking wasn’t as presumptuous as he’d originally thought? ---

“Were you singing about me?” Geralt asked quickly, before he could have changed his mind.

Jaskier gaped, apparently caught off-guard by the question, but he collected himself with remarkable velocity.

“ _YES, I was_ , you moron!” The Alpha shot back sounding mildly pissed. “I – I … I hadn’t written any songs to the Countess de Stael after I’ve met you – so if I was singing of heartache in Blaviken…! That would’ve been – that was most _definitely_ about you! You – complete and utter _arse!_ – Mmmphf!”

The Alpha gave an undignified squeak as Geralt leant in to capture his lips in a firm kiss.

Geralt didn’t think, he was acting on pure instinct as he tried to pour all of his jumbled emotions – giddy happiness, relief, overwhelming fondness and love – into a physical form to make them more manageable---

Of course, he had known that Jaskier loved him – obviously, he bard said so often enough…

But to hear the sheer _depth_ and the seriousness of his affection was decidedly… intoxicating.

Geralt felt a bit drunk on it– but at the same time, he never wanted this feeling to stop. He held his Alpha’s close, slotting their bodies together, enjoying the fact that there was no baby bump to be mindful of this time and they could embrace each other as tightly as they used to when they were just at the beginning of their relationship… in those first few weeks after their reuniting in Blaviken.

Jaskier squeezed him right back, manoeuvring him so that he could fit one of his thighs between Geralt’s slightly spread legs so he could press against his crotch, and Geralt _growled_ in pleasure ---

They were startled out of their blissful groping by a baby’s cry. The mood disappeared instantly, but to Geralt’s amusement, Jaskier began to snicker, shaking his head.

“Well - I guess that’s our new ‘normal’ now!”

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed in agreement, smiling slightly. “And that is Estelle’s cry – so it’s your turn…”

“I don’t like this system!” Jaskier protested. “How come you got dibs on changing Aden’s nappies and I’m stuck with Estelle?! I’ll let you know, changing a girl’s diaper is waaay harder…!”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Sucks to be you.” Geralt said simply, fleshing a smug smile at the Alpha.

Jaskier huffed and fumed, but in the end, of course he went over to their babies’ cot and he lifted little Estelle out with the utmost care, crooning at her as he did so. Estelle stopped crying almost immediately once he was in Jaskier’s arms and the Alpha began to rock her back and forth.

“That’s my beautiful girl! That’s my beautiful little Princess…”

Jaskier laid Estelle down onto their improvised changing table (the top of their chest of drawers was perfect for the purpose), making sure her little head was supported.

As Geralt watched them, he kept glancing at Aden and then back at Estelle; comparing their features; the similarities and the differences.

Estelle, he had named after the stars – because she liked to be up all night and slept like a babe during the day. And Aden, he had named him upon looking at the fire in the hearth: warm and bright, just like he was. The little guy was always calm, as long as he was fed and changed regularly. He was such an easy baby…

Estelle and Aden – stars and campfire; the lights of their lives.

* * *

“When will Daddy be back?” Estelle asked, looking up from her dolls for a moment to look at Jaskier who was busy carving a make-shift recorder for Aden out of a piece of wood.

“Estelle, remember what Daddy said this morning? He said he would be back for dinner. Is it dinnertime yet?” He asked, gently but firmly.

“No it isn’t!” Estelle replied with a heavy sigh.

“That’s right!” Jaskier agreed, smiling at her softly, even as he was shaking his head in amusement. Their daughter was definitely taking after himself personality-wise – the little girl was only three and a half and she already had too much sass! Not to mention that she talked constantly!

As if on cue, she spoke again:

“Why does it take so long for Daddy to kill the endrooga?”

“It’s not ‘endr-oo-ga’, it’s ‘endr-e-ga’” He said, correcting her gently. “And it’s because Daddy has to find the endrega’s first – they live in the swamps, far-far away from the village.”

Aden cocked his head up at that. “But he has Roach to ride on! And Roach is the _fastest_ horse!”

Jaskier smiled at him indulgently.

“That’s right – that’s why Daddy will be back by dinner. But it’s a long ride, even for a horse as quick as Roach.”

Suddenly, Estelle stood up, dropping her doll to the floor dramatically.

“I am tired of playing! Can we go out, Papa? _Please?_ ” She asked, using her sweetest little look and making big doe-eyes as she glimpsed up at Jaskier.

Jaskier looked down at the half-finished recorder in his lap. To be fair, he could continue working on that outside and Aden and Estelle could go play with the other children out on the street meanwhile – it might help make them sleepier by the time evening comes around…

“Allright,” He agreed finally. “But no running off where I can’t see you – got it?”

“Yes, Papa!!” Estelle shrieked happily in agreement.

Jaskier sighed, bracing himself – with that level of excitement, it wouldn’t be long before she forgot about the rule and ran off to play with some kid in their garden or another…

Aden was also excited, but he was less dramatic about showing it.

“Papa, can I bring my toy train?” He asked, looking up at Jaskier. “I promised Ruby I’d show her.”

Ruby was the innkeep’s four-year old daughter whom they’d met yesterday.

“Yeah, sure,” Jaskier agreed, helping Aden pick up the toy so he could carry it down the stairs. He insisted on carrying it himself (“I can do it!”) – of course…

They stayed outside until the sun had nearly set, and then they made their way back up into their room.

“Well, it’s dinnertime – we can’t wait on Daddy anymore. Let’s head downstairs.” Jaskier said, motioning Aden and Estelle towards the door.

They truly must have been hungry by that point, because usually they would have protested and said they wanted to wait for Daddy to come, but on this particular evening, there were no protests. They headed down and Jaskier ordered them all dinner – goulash soup and bread. The goulash was actually quite nice and Jaskier felt content as he ate, leaning in to help Aden or Estelle occasionally when they got their faces dirty, or to cut up their pieces of meat into smaller chunks. They both ate with gusto, Estelle going as far as to say:

“That was the yummiest soup ever!”

Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, don’t say that in front of Daddy! He might he sad to know that his soup isn’t the best.”

Estelle made wide eyes at that. “But Daddy’s soup _is_ the best. Just this one is the best too!” She declared with utter conviction.

“Oh – well, I guess there’s no problem then!” Jaskier conceded, smiling at their daughter with admiration. Bless her with her three-and-a-half-year-old logic… he needed to cherish these moments when it was still so easy to appease them. He knew it would get harder down the line.

Once they were up in their rooms, of course the kids had remembered that Daddy wasn’t back yet.

“Can’t we wait for Daddy to come home and,” Aden let out a huge yawn, but carried on speaking regardless. “Read us a bedtime story before we go sleepy-sleepy?”

Jaskier shook his head gently. “No, Aden – we don’t know when Daddy is getting home… Maybe he got tired and went sleepy-sleepy somewhere else. You know that happens sometimes. Perhaps it is taking him longer to find the endregas than he expected it to take.”

“Oh,” Aden said, looking a bit put out. “But Daddy makes the best monster sounds!”

“Indeed he does!” Jaskier agreed, stroking his hand through Aden’s dark locks gently. “But it’s okay, he can read to you tomorrow. I’ll read you a different kind of story today – about a beautiful princess who became a Witcher…”

The kids loved Ciri’s story- they knew it by heart. They had met Eskel before and the Witcher told them about his child surprise, a girl named Ciri, who was the Princess of Cintra, and she was currently training at Kaer Morhen to become a Witcher – or a sorceress? It was a bit confusing, but it didn’t bother Estelle or Aden in the least.

Jaskier was barely halfway through the story- explaining how Eskel had finally found Ciri in the woods after they had been looking for each other for months after the siege of Cintra – when he noticed that Estelle and Aden were both fast asleep – Estelle half-sprawled out on his of his brother, the way she used to do when they were babies as well. Jaskier smiled at them fondly, tugging the covers a bit higher on them to make sure they wouldn’t get cold during the night.

Now that he didn’t have the children to think of, he could finally allow himself to relax – he sighed.

Of course he tried not to worry about Geralt, but that was hard to do when your mate was pregnant – AND taking contracts…

The pregnancy hadn’t exactly been planned, although it wasn’t unplanned either. Geralt’s heats had started again shortly after Estelle and Aden had been weaned, which was almost two years ago now. They had agreed that since their chances of conception were low, they would continue not using protection, because they wouldn’t have minded having another child, although it was highly unlikely anyway.

Geralt didn’t fall pregnant during his first two heats, but the third one had been different – Jaskier had been immediately suspicious when Geralt’s heat was cut short; the symptoms going away after just one or two days.

“Remember what this had meant last time!” He had tried to reason with his mate, but Geralt had brushed him off.

But then he noticed that his nipples had turned tender and he became picky about food again.

“Crap.” Geralt had announced one morning. Upon refusing bacon for the third consecutive day because he just couldn’t even stand the sight of it… “I think you were right.”

They summoned Yennefer who had confirmed their suspicions.

“Congratulations, yes, you are indeed pregnant!”

After a hasty round of congratulations, Yennefer had taken her leave because she needed to return to Kaer Morhen - the keep had become her second home recently (her's _and_ Tissaia's as well, really).

Geralt and Jaskier had been contemplating starting to travel around again before they got these news.

“Well, I guess this means settling in for a few more years here on the farm, I guess…” Geralt said.

To his surprise, Jaskier had a different idea.

“Well – I knew you were looking forward to travelling and taking Witcher contracts again; so why don’t you do that? You are only two months along, you have a long time to go before the pregnancy may affect your umm... physical prowess?” Jaskier said, wincing at the wording.

“No, I—“ Geralt shook his head. “I shouldn’t. It’s my fault I’m pregnant anyway – I should have asked you to use protection if I didn’t want to pregnant… I ought to take responsibility for it.”

“And you are!” Jaskier interjected firmly. “You are – We are taking responsibility! All I’m saying is.. I’m still down with the plan if you are. Just – let’s get you an armour made that will fit your belly throughout your pregnancy. Because your current one is okay for now, but it may not fit you in two months’ time.”

“You’re really okay with that?” Geralt had asked, making big eyes at his mate.

Jaskier had smiled gently. “Sure I am! I never minded the traveller’s life. It’ll be nice as a change of pace.”

Geralt didn’t reply, he just gave Jaskier a bone-crushing hug – and Jaskier knew he had said the right thing.

For what it was worth – he had meant it. He didn’t mind travelling, at all! And he enjoyed performing at various inns and pubs on the evenings when Geralt was recuperating and he could look after the twins. He enjoyed showing the world to Estelle and Aden – although they were young and they probably wouldn’t remember much from these adventures when they got older – it was still amazing to Jaskier to see the glee on their faces when they came across a huge waterfall or when they first set eyes on fireworks, or the high twin towers of Nazair’s capital. Or when they had tasted ice cream for the first time! Estelle had taken one lick and shrieked:

“It tastes like _clouds!"_

Because the ice cream was white and fluffy…

Jaskier snickered at the memory. He rubbed his hand across his face. It was probably high time he went to sleep himself – the kids would wake early tomorrow morning, they were like little rooster’s always rising at the crack of down…

He had just convinced himself to get into bed when there was a familiar knock and the door opened gently, revealing Geralt behind it.

“Oh, Geralt! Dearest –“ Jaskier leaped up, thoughts of sleep forgotten. “Are you okay?”

The Omega just smiled, allowing the Alpha to fuss over him.

“Yeah, it was all fine, it just took a while to find the endrega’s nest. The locals couldn’t give me much information to go on.”

“Thank goodness!” Jaskier said, nodding. “I hoped that was what was keeping you.” He looked down at Geralt’s bump – getting bigger by the day now, as the Omega was nearing six months. “Did the babe behave?” He asked, stroking his hand across Geralt’s abdomen gently.

“Hmm,” He hummed in agreement, looking down and putting his own hand over Jaskier’s. “You might feel them moving if you wait a bit – they had woken up during the ride home… oh there it is.”

Jaskier focused his attention on his hand and sure enough, he could feel a little flutter underneath his palm – even through the thick leather armour, it was unmistakeable: their babe was moving and kicking, training and getting stronger each day…

“It’s definitely just one this time, right?” Jaskier asked, stroking his hand over it. He couldn’t remember exactly, but he was pretty sure the bump was a bit smaller this time around.

Geralt nodded. “Yes, just one this time. Thank Melitele!”

Jaskier huffed in amusement. It was rare for Geralt to address the heavens – he truly must have been glad that he was having an easier pregnancy this time ‘round!

“Well come on!” Jaskier said finally, letting go of his mate’s midriff. “Let’s get this armour off you, I’ll call for a bath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter with quite a big time jump in-between! :) We will here about baby number 3 soon, I promise ;)


	30. Welcome Little One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another baby is born.

On a dreary, rainy night in the middle of winter Geralt was woken by contractions – and this time, he knew what they meant.

He got up and walked around a bit, until he finally decided to wake Jaskier to ask him to fill the tub for him. Tissaia had said something about warm water being allegedly useful to help ease the pain of contractions, and Geralt was willing to test that.

“Jaskier…” Geralt murmured, leaning in close, so he wouldn’t wake Estelle and Aden who were sleeping peacefully in their own beds in the corner of the room.

“Hmm, yes?” Jaskier answered immediately despite having just woken.

“I think I’m in labour.”

“Mmmh, what?” Jaskier shook his head, trying to make sense of Geralt’s words. “Oh, my- you – you are in---? How long have you been up?”

Damn, Jaskier knew him too well.

“Just for about an hour or so.”

Jaskier nodded, getting up from the bed swiftly. “Right, so I’ll fill the tub and then I’ll call Yen and Tissaia. Is there anything else you need?”

“Some tea?” Geralt asked, wincing at having to add yet another task to Jaskier’s to-do-list, but the Alpha didn’t seem to mind. He motioned for Geralt to sit down on one of their dining room chairs, as he sat about to heating water.

Geralt couldn’t believe how much easier labouring was now that Jaskier was around. The Alpha made him tea, coddled him, and best of all, took care of _everything!_ All Geralt had to do was to sit there and try and relax while he could.

Jaskier soon announced that the tub was filled – testing the temperature of the water on his own arm carefully - so Geralt stood up and took off his nightshift. He took care as he got into the tub, wincing as having lift his leg into it caused a sudden sting in his pelvic area – the babe’s head was sitting very low and the stretch made that obvious.

But then, finally he had both his feet in the tub and he was sitting down, submerging himself into the blessedly hot water. He couldn’t help but sigh in pleasure as he felt some of the tension ebb away immediately just from the comforting feeling of the hot bath.

“Wow, I’m starting to grow jealous!” Jaskier said in amusement. “That water is drawing prettier sounds out of you than I can …”

“Says something about your talents then, doesn’t it?” Geralt shot back, with a little smirk of his own.

Jaskier’s mortified sputtering was highly satisfying to watch.

“Um- um.. oh yeah? Then, maybe---!”

“Hmm?” Geralt asked, waiting patiently for the bard’s rebuttal.

Finally, Jaskier gave up and huffed:

“Oh, sod it, just enjoy your bath, you oaf! Is the temperature okay?”

“Mmh, yes, it’s great. Thank you. It’s… very nice.” Geralt said, leaning back in the tub, to appreciate the warm water even more.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jaskier replied with a little smile, clearly pleased. Which caused a funny little fluttery feeling in Geralt’s chest and he felt himself flush a little bit.

Geralt had recently realised that he _loved_ making Jaskier happy. Partially because… well it made him happy. Which was a nice, albeit unintended side-effect. But also because… it was nice to see the Alpha happy. Or relaxed. Content.

And he found that complimenting Jaskier was a sure-fire way to do that. It would have been ridiculously easy to accomplish, if only Geralt knew how to give compliments. It wasn’t like he had used them much in the past. He was better at sarcastic remarks. But sometimes he found, just saying what he meant – without putting sarcasm into it – was the way to go.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and Geralt looked up, breaking out from his train of thoughts.

“That will be them,” Jaskier said, walking over to the door and opening it swiftly.

“Hello-hello! We heard there was a bun that needed to come out of the oven—” Yennefer said by way of greeting, smiling at the bard widely.

To Geralt’s surprise (and indignation!) Jaskier actually laughed at that.

“Oh yeah – this bun is crispy! It needs to come out soon, I’d say…”

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed, stroking his distended belly protectively.

Well – he did look ready to burst, that much was true…

“Tissaia – pleasure to see you again!” Jaskier greeted the sorceress with a kiss on the hand.

“It’s good to see you both,” Tissaia replied politely, walking past Jaskier and grabbing a chair so she could sit down next to the tub. “Hello, Geralt! How is the labour coming along?”

Geralt grunted. “Hmm – good, I suppose? Feels fairly normal. Like last time.”

They went over the basics – when did the contractions start, where was he feeling them, et cetera. Then Jaskier helped him stand up and Tissaia did a quick exam on him, and thankfully, she was able to confirm that the babe was head-down and descending nicely.

They settled in for the rest of the labour. Geralt hadn’t even considered how useful it would be to have Yen around, now that they had Estelle and Aden to think of. The two almost-four-year olds woke shortly after dawn like clockwork, and as soon as they stepped into the living room, they broke out in loud shrieks.

“Auntie Yennefer!!! Auntie Tissaia! Is our little sibling here?!!” Estelle asked looking at them excitedly.

“Hello Estelle! Wow, look how much you’ve grown?” Yennefer said, hugging her niece before leaning in to hug Aden as well. “No, your new sibling hasn’t come out yet – they are feeling very comfortable in Daddy’s tummy – but they will be here soon, probably today.”

“Definitely today.” Tissaia confirmed, smiling at them.

“Papa, why is Daddy in the tub?” Aden asked suddenly. “He already had a bath last night.”

Jaskier leant down to Aden and picked him up so he could see Geralt and Tissaia better. “Daddy is in the tub because the warm water helps him relax and he needs to relax so the baby can come out.”

“Not because of mo-monster guts?” Aden asked, looking puzzled.

The adults in the room all laughed.

Jaskier shook his head. “Yes, that happens often, but not today, no – you know Daddy didn’t go monster-hunting for weeks now! He is just sitting in the water because it’s comfortable.”

“Why?” Aden asked without missing a beat.

Jaskier looked at Yennefer with a pleading look. “Umm, Aden, do you want to go outside and play with Auntie Yen?”

“I wanna go too!” Estelle squeaked.

Yen gave Jaskier a look that spelled “I’m happy to help but expect some form of payback nonetheless”. The sorceress turned towards the children, smiling at them brightly.

“Come on you both! Would you like to ride on enchanted horses like last time?”

“Yeees!! Yes! Yes!” The twins shouted in unison, racing to get their stick horses and then running outside.

“Yennefer, no hovering higher than knee-height, okay?” Jaskier said, giving the sorceress a strict look. The enchantress had mesmerised the twins last time by charming their stick horses so that they would levitate in the air, and they could be controlled by leaning slightly left or right for turning, or forwards for speeding. The kids had gone crazy for it.

“Yes, yes!” Yennefer nodded, rolling her eyes fondly.

* * *

The labour continued uneventfully for hours and hours. The kids came inside and had lunch. Geralt didn’t even try to suppress his occasional groans and moans that came over him when a particularly intense contraction would hit – it would have been futile. He could half-hear Yennefer’s voice through the fog of the pain, as she explained to them that this was normal, that Daddy was working hard to help the baby come into the world.

Estelle and Aden chattered away happily, and then upon Yennefer’s suggestion, they went outside again.

Jaskier was very supportive: he kept massaging Geralt’s neck and lower back intermittently, right up to the point when Geralt felt it was time to push and then he told his mate in no uncertain terms to _get his hands off him_ ; he needed to concentrate on the pushing…

To Geralt’s surprise, he could feel the babe coming after only a handful of pushes. He brought his hand down to his entrance, and sure enough: he could feel the baby’s head there. _Their_ baby’s head! He adjusted his stance in the tub, making sure he was steady on his knees as he left his hand where it was: on the babe’s head, so he could catch them when they came.

“Oh, fuck—”, Geralt hissed as a particularly intense contraction hit and - he pushed. He could feel immense pressure and a burning sensation, and he knew, instinctively, the moment _it_ happened, that the babe’s head was out; but to his surprise, the contraction wasn’t over yet, so he kept on pushing through it, and sure enough -- he felt a sudden _rush_ , some pressure – and then all of it was gone and there was a heavy weight in his hands, and he was pulling the little bundle up onto his chest --

He looked down at the babe he was holding in pure awe. The little thing was wriggling, arching his little arms away from his body, but its eyes and mouth were still firmly shut… But Geralt was already admiring them, drinking in the babe’s features: pointy and sharp, he had Geralt’s chin, but Jaskier’s ears… He noticed with delight how _different_ this child looked compared to Aden and Estelle – and yet, Geralt could already feel himself falling in love all over again… he loved everything about the babe in his arms, and he couldn’t wait to get to know them properly.

Geralt was startled out of his thoughts when Tissaia leant in, in order to rub a clean wet cloth over the baby’s face, cleaning it from the blood and the mucus; and as if on cue, the babe’s face scrunched up and they were crying and wailing at the top of their little lung, and Geralt felt a rush of happiness spreading through him even as he shushed the little newborn instinctively, rocking them gently…

He moved himself into a sitting position so he could rest, and Jaskier was hugging him, looking down at their babe over his mate’s shoulder.

“Oh, Geralt! You were fantastic, you _are_ fantastic! You did it! You did it!” Jaskier whispered, sounding on the verge of tears.

And suddenly, Geralt remembered that he hadn’t even checked their baby’s gender yet, so he looked down unbidden, tilting the babe a little so their legs fell apart…

“It’s a boy!” Geralt said – although he wasn’t sure if Jaskier had heard him, because his throat was still raw and scratchy from the strain of labour – but he cleared his throat and tried again, a bit more strongly this time: “It’s a boy, Jaskier! We have _another_ son!”

And as soon as he’d said that, Geralt was sobbing -- because of the sheer weight of that word: “ _another_ ”!

It still felt incredible that he could have this! Initially, he had assumed that he would only ever have Aden and Estelle ( _one_ son and _one_ daughter) – and that would have been fine! It was amazing they _existed_ in the first place…

But now -- to be graced with another perfect, beautiful babe --- this felt like a true _miracle_ … Geralt still didn’t know what he’d done to deserve such a gift… but damn if he wasn’t grateful about it! He was going to do everything he could to make this child happy… To be a good Dad to them, just like he tried to do with Estelle and Aden…

Jaskier – for his part – was lovely. He tried to console Geralt, muttering nonsensical little things like “it’s okay… there-there…” and “He’s precious Geralt – look at him! He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” And Geralt was nodding then because Gods yes – the little babe _was_ beautiful!

“You should name him,” Geralt murmured, turning towards Jaskier. “I named Aden and Estelle – it’s only fair.”

“You don’t have to---” Jaskier replied, clearly protesting, so Geralt cut him off gently but firmly:

“Jaskier, I know I don’t have to. I _want_ you to.” He said slowly, meaningfully.

The Alpha nodded, seeming to turn pensive at Geralt’s words.

“That’s --- it’s strange you would say that, because just yesterday – I was thinking of a name I wanted to suggest, if we were to have a boy –” Jaskier trailed off, looking away shyly. “Well – that is – if – only if you’d like it! ---”

Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Jaskier. Say it.”

The Alpha cleared his throat.

“Zombor. It just – I think it sounds nice.”

 _Zombor…_ Geralt tried the name on in his mind, and then looked at the little babe – who was sleeping peacefully now. _Zombor_.

“That settles the name then.” Geralt said, nodding and Jaskier beamed at his response, clearly pleased. The Alpha leant in a little closer, addressing their son as he whispered:

“Welcome to the world, Little One. It’s time you met your siblings.”

Geralt smirked. “Mmh, good idea – might as well get that out of the way while the babe is asleep.”

“That’s what I was thinking! Less traumatic than if it was awake and crying, say!” Jaskier agreed, chuckling.

“And less traumatic for the babe too.” Geralt added sarcastically. “Please make sure they don’t poke his eye out?”

Jaskier scoffed and swatted Geralt’s shoulder playfully, but he nodded regardless as the took the babe from the Omega’s arms gently.

“Don’t worry about a thing – we’ll be just fine, won’t we, Zombor? Yes, we will be… Estelle will love you, Little One! Oh boy, she will!”

Geralt looked after his mate fondly as he went outside to find Yennefer and the twins. Finally, it was only him and Tissaia in the room.

“Let’s get you patched up and in bed, shall we?” Tissaia said with one of her signature wry smiles.

Geralt hadn’t even realised that he was still in the tub, but at the sorceress’s words, he felt relief hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Oh fuck yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! :) Thank you for reading, I am planning to conclude the story in the next chapter... it's gonna be emotional y'all!!! I've never actually finished a writing project of this length before... it's going to be amazing!!! 
> 
> Thank you so much to those who are still following this story! Thank you for all your comments and kudos, that helped motivate me when I relented... 
> 
> Don't worry- the final chapter is coming, it'll be here by next week for sure. :)


	31. Shooting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The children are growing, and Jaskier and Geralt have a talk.

They did not make the mistake of thinking they couldn’t get pregnant again.

The next time Geralt’s heat returned, when Zombor was one and a half years old and the twins were just a little over five, - they used protection.

It was an idyllic time. They were enjoying seeing Zombor grow with each day. Although he was too little to play with the twins properly yet – that didn’t stop him from trying! It was amazing to see the little toddler waddling around after the twins who would shriek and run from him. Estelle had taken a special shining to Zombor, because she enjoyed teaching his little brother things, as she said. Like how to say her name.

“Es-telle!” She said, enunciating the word slowly.

Zombor smiled, replying immediately: “Ettel!”

Estelle sighed. “Nooo Zombor – _Es_ -telle!”

Zombor furrowed his brows.

“Ettel, Ettel?”

Jaskier noticed them and patted Estelle’s head gently. “Come on now. Dinner’s almost ready. You can try again tomorrow.”

“What’s for dinner?” Aden piped in, running across the garden to where they were standing at the front door.

“Roast chicken,” Jaskier replied. “But you must wash your hands first!”

The Alpha chortled upon seeing that even Aden, who usually disliked handwashing with a passion, was quick to do just that at the promise of the roasted chicken.

“Hey!” Estelle said, trying to cut in in front of his twin brother who was rinsing his hands. “Ladies first – move over!”

“Now, now Estelle!” Jaskier said gently, as he stepped up next to them. “That’s no way to ask somebody! What do we say?”

Estelle grimaced but she looked up obediently. “Please?”

“That’s right!” Jaskier said, voice warm with praise.

“I’m done!” Aden piped in, showing off his squeaky clean hands, before Jaskier gave him the okay to go inside.

“You see, Estelle? It’s better to be patient; your brother only needed a minute to finish what he was doing.”

Estelle looked up at him in puzzlement. “But waiting is hard! And I don’t like it.” She said, crossing her little arms in front of her body.

Jaskier smiled at the striking resemblance between her and her father – crossing arms was one of Geralt’s signature gestures.

He kneeled down, beckoning Estelle closer. “I know waiting is hard… Nobody likes doing it, but – sometimes great things will come when you wait. Like remember the bean sprout you planted last year?”

“Yes!” Estelle nodded swiftly. She had loved her little plant!

“Well – you needed to wait for the sprout to grow, right?” Jaskier asked gently.

Estelle nodded, although she was furrowing her brows – as if she was deep in thought trying to remember that.

“The sprout will grow in its own time. You can’t _make_ it grow faster; all you can do is take good care of it and hope it will prosper one day.”

“Hope?” Estelle repeated the word, as if tasting it.

Jaskier nodded, smiling at her. “Yes, hope. Like we hoped for you to be born when you were still just a little seed inside Daddy’s tummy.”

Estelle nodded with glee. “Like Zombor was!”

“That’s right!” Jaskier agreed.

Geralt appeared in the doorway wearing an apron.

“Dinner’s ready!” He called. “Could you collect Zombor and wash his hands too, please?”

Jaskier stood up quickly. “Oh yes, yes, of course!”

Geralt gave a grateful nod before he disappeared inside again, and suddenly Estelle began to laugh in pure delight.

“What’s so funny?!” Jaskier asked even as he lifted little Zombor and began washing his hands gently.

“You were told off by Daddy!” Estelle replied as if it was obvious.

“I wasn’t!”

“He told you what to do!” Estelle corrected herself.

“That much is true.”

“Hmm. Daddy is the boss!” Estelle declared after a second of thinking.

Jaskier laughed. “That, I can’t argue with.”

* * *

One evening, just after they had celebrated the twins’ sixth birthday, Jaskier and Geralt were sitting outside on their veranda, admiring their garden at night. All of the children were sleeping; they had finally managed to put little Zombor in bed too. He was still going to sleep a bit later than the twins were, but their sleep schedule was getting closer and closer together; soon enough, they could all go to bed at the same time.

“Your heat is getting closer.” Jaskier remarked, sensing the tell-tale sweet scent in the air. “We’ll have to ask Yennefer and Tissaia to take the kids.”

“We can’t ask them to do that all the time…” Geralt protested.

“We can! And if they don’t have the time, we can still ask them to pop the kids over to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir is always happy to look after them.”

That part, Geralt couldn’t argue with: the old Witcher had been thrilled each time they brought the kids around, and he reassured them that he would be to watch over them whenever need be. The twins loved going to Kaer Morhen, because they could play with practice swords and dummies all day, and they loved the snow they would get there in the winter. It never snowed in Mettina, so to them, the cold of winter at the keep was a welcome change.

It was the start of summer now, so soon the weather would turn dry and hot; but it would be just perfect in Kaer Morhen.

“Hmm, you’re right,” Geralt conceded.

“What’s that?” Jaskier asked. “You seem troubled. Come on – tell me! What are you thinking about in that big brain of yours?”

Geralt smiled bitterly. “You really know me too well…”

When he didn’t continue, Jaskier huffed.

“That I do. Being together for sixteen years tends to do that to people.”

At the Alpha’s words, Geralt looked up and gave looked over Jaskier truly, taking in his form in detail: the bard was well into his adult years now, and there were a few more wrinkles around his eyes – probably caused by sleep-deprived years of when the twins were little – but other than that, he was still full of life and healthy as can be. So that was no excuse not to say what Geralt yearned to say, really…

He sighed, but he began to speak, looking at his mate.

“I – I know we’ve talked about this before, and I said I didn’t want any more children… and I didn’t – not while Zombor was so small… but well – he’s bigger now and the twins are more and more able to look after themselves…”

“You want another babe?” Jaskier asked with a gentle smile.

Geralt swallowed. “Gods help me, I do….”

Jaskier laughed.

“I’m happy to do it if you are! Well," The Alpha trailed off, rubbing his nape self-consciously "As long as we can agree to have no more than ten? I think more than that _may_ be a bit too much for me--- "

Geralt couldn't help but scoff at the suggestion of _ten kids_ or more!

Oh hell no.... 

"I meant one more. Maybe two." He admitted grudgingly.

Jaskier let out a big breath. "Oh thank goodness-- well that sounds perfect, I'd _love_ that! And I'm pretty sure Estelle and Aden would be happy too, they had been talking about wanting another little brother or sister..."

"They are?" Geralt asked back. He hadn't heard about this yet.

"Yes!" Jaskier said, nodding empathically. "So what’s the problem?”

_What indeed?_

Geralt scoffed, shaking his head. “I guess I’m just… I’m scared. I think – because I think I’m doing okay as a parent – for now…”

“You are doing _splendidly!_ ” Jaskier interjected.

Geralt smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“But I wonder… if we had more children, if there were more of them to look after – would I be able to give all of them the attention they needed? What if I have a limit of how many children I can look after - competently - and that limit is three? -- No hear me out!" He said when he noted that Jaskier was about to interrupt him again. "And…” He swallowed again as he forced himself to voice the worry that had been sitting heavily over his chest for years now. “Do I even _deserve_ to have more children in the first place?”

Jaskier frowned. “What do you mean?”

Geralt grunted in frustration. “I don’t know! But – there are so many families children could be born into – why me? What right do I have to -to… invite another soul into this world…? I already have Aden, Estelle and Zombor – it should be enough…”

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier sighed, caressing his mate’s shoulder softly. “That’s not how any of this works…”

Geralt couldn’t help himself as he asked back reflexively. “No?”

“ _No,_ ” Jaskier replied firmly, empathically. There was also a warmth in his voice that made Geralt shiver, and prompted him to burrow into his mate’s embrace even more.

“No, - yes, you deserve to have all the children you will have! Just like everyone else does… Estelle, Aden and Zombor are happy – there’s no reason why their siblings wouldn’t be… And also: yes, we can try for another child, but it won’t happen unless it’s meant to be anyway, so… What’s the harm in trying?”

“Oh,” Geralt said. “That’s true I guess.”

“That’s the part you forget.” Jaskier said, stroking his mate’s hair fondly. “You forget that you didn’t _force_ these children into being… They were conceived by our love and sheer luck – or fate, or destiny… whatever it is!” The bard said, waving his hand dismissively, but his eyes were gentle as he continued: “But _they_ would have never existed if we didn’t get together… There could have been other children -- but not them, that’s for sure…”

“I can’t imagine living without them,” Geralt whispered softly into his mate’s shoulder, as if it was a dirty secret he was admitting to.

“Me neither.” Jaskier replied with utter conviction.

They sat in silence for a while, until suddenly, Jaskier noticed something strange in the periphery of his vision; he followed the sight and was delighted by what he saw.

“Look, Geralt!” He said, pointing to the right. “Shooting stars!”

Geralt looked up, and he followed the direction of Jaskier’s gaze: indeed, on the early summer sky, there were several little moving points, shiny beacons: shooting stars. They stared at them in awe until the beautiful display had passed.

“Do you think there’ll be more?” Jaskier asked.

“Maybe.” Geralt said. “I was never big on watching the stars -- except for navigation. Don’t know much about them otherwise.”

Jaskier smirked. “Hmff. _Witchers!_ Typical…” His Alpha was silent for a second, but Geralt could sense tension emanating from him and sure enough, he spoke again: “What if – you wouldn’t have to worry about what you feel you ‘ought to do’ or what was ‘proper’ --- if you were free to decide – would you choose to try for another child – _with me?_ ” The Alpha added the last two words, disguised as an afterthought – but after so many years of knowing him, Geralt knew that those words had meaning, that Jaskier was asking – do you still want me, after all these years?

And the answer to that was easy.

“ _Yes_.” He said empathically. He turned towards the Alpha, making sure to look into his eyes as he replied. “Wouldn’t want to with anyone else.”

“Oh, Geralt…” Jaskier murmured, his voice taking on a watery quality as it often did when he was overwhelmed. It used to frighten Geralt, but he knew that that was a good kind of sadness now – his mate had sounded like this when their babes were born, when they got a Father’s day gift from Aden and Estelle… it was happiness.

“I know I don’t say it often enough,” He said, aware that his voice was strangely scratchy – but ignoring it, because he needed to get this out, damn it. “But I love you, Jaskier.”

“I love you too,” Jaskier murmured, hugging him fiercely. “I love you so-so much…” Suddenly, the Alpha laughed and Geralt looked up at him in confusion. Jaskier’s eyes twinkled as he spoke: “Well – I guess that means we may be welcoming another babe into our family soon! I better start working on that extra room we’ve been talking about…”

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed sceptically. Trust Jaskier to be optimistic in the face of utter uncertainty…

He found himself stroking his belly unconsciously. Who knew whether he could even get pregnant - again? He tried not to feel anxious at the thought as he continued rubbing his abdomen, as he used to do when he was expecting… He sighed.

Jaskier nudged him out of his musing suddenly. “Look – more shooting stars! They say if you see one and make a wish, it’ll come true…”

Geralt wished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a never-ending story, damn! .... There will be one more chapter at least. Possibly two. We'll see. :) Thank you for bearing with me! Kudos and comments are appreciated as always ^^


	32. Another Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier and Geralt get some news.

When Geralt’s heat came, they tried for a babe – purposefully, this time.

And amazingly - they succeeded.

* * * 

Their fourth child, a daughter, is born in early spring next year, when Zombor is a little over three years old, and the twins are almost seven.

Little Jolenta – named after the wild violets that appeared in their garden after she was conceived – looks a splitting image of Jaskier: she has a small cute button nose, cornflower blue eyes and a wild mane of wispy dark brown hair. It is only fitting that she is named after a flower, just like her Papa is.

* * *

The twins adore Jolenta, especially Estelle, who is thrilled to have a little sister -- finally!

Aden is a bit put out initially, but he gets over his disappointment soon as Zombor is growing and he is able to play with his little brother more and more. Zombor follows Aden everywhere: the two of them become inseparable.

With Estelle taking a keen interest in looking after her little sister, it is a breeze to look after Jolenta. The first year of her life seems to pass in a blink of an eye to Geralt.

* * *

By the time Jolenta turned one and a half years old, she was largely weaned on her own accord and Geralt could feel his heats returning; the telling symptoms of pre-heat seemed to be getting stronger – which was exciting and terrifying at the same time, because Jaskier’s rut was also just around the corner! Rarely did their cycles ever synch up to such an extent – and although Geralt _did not_ believe in signs or anything as ridiculous as “destiny”…

He had to admit that this came pretty close to that.

He could _feel_ it in his gut that this was their last chance: if they wanted another child – their fifth and last one – because Geralt knew he would be done after this; he wouldn’t want to raise another babe once Jolenta was permanently out of diapers. So they ought to try it now…

Geralt was terrified when he invited Jaskier to sit with him that evening after they had put the kids to sleep.

He explained to Jaskier his thinking, telling him his reasons: that he wanted to give Jolenta a sibling who would be closer to her in age and that Estelle was very eager to have another little sibling (another sister, preferably) – and then, reluctantly, he said those dreaded few words:

“And… I would really-really like to have one more – one _last_ child.” He said, eyes firmly trained on the floor so he wouldn’t have to see his Alpha’s reaction. “I – It would feel – wrong - if I didn’t try one last time…”

Fuck, he was babbling now! _Great, just great…_ Geralt groaned in frustration but forced himself to carry on nonetheless.

“I know how ludicrous this sounds, but I can feel that this is what I ought to do--- ! It… it feels right. But it’s more than that –“ He added, because he wanted to make sure Jaskier knew all of his reasons, that he could see the full picture – even if he thought Geralt was selfish or even is he felt appalled or disgusted afterwards – the Alpha had a right to know his reasons. “I just want to. As simple as that… I want us to try for a child one last time – and then I’ll be satisfied and I’ll be done, whether I get pregnant or not –”

He couldn’t babble on, because Jaskier silenced him with a firm press of lips. And despite his nervousness, Geralt smirked into the kiss.

“You stole my line.” The Witcher said, looking at his mate with what he knew must have been a besotted expression on his face.

Thankfully, Jaskier returned his gaze with an equally tender smile of his own.

“You’re not the only one who can learn new things… I’ve taught you how to talk about your feelings and how to express what you want… And you’ve taught me the value of talking less.”

“Mmmmh…” Geralt said. He wished he could have been satisfied with that reply, but he could still feel a pang of uncertainty, a need for a clear ‘yes’… so he just had to ask. “So does that mean you’re okay with it?”

To his dismay, Jaskier huffed in exasperation.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’ve meant. I’ve already told you that I’d be happy as long as we don’t go over ten – I would like to keep the number of our children in single digits, thanks very much…”

Geralt felt a rush of warmth flood him at his mate’s easy reassurance.

“What did I do to deserve you?” He asked softly, cuddling Jaskier closer to him.

Jaskier smirked. “Mmh, angered the Gods? Or maybe you’ve upset a djinn…?”

Geralt hit Jaskier’s shoulder playfully, silencing him effectively.

* * *

A heat was usually intense. Ruts were also intense. Combined together… It was utter _madness_ that lasted a whole week. By the end of it they were both sore, having fucked each other in turns until they couldn’t stand it anymore - needing to stop to recover from the over-stimulation… And then they had sucked each other off in tandem and finally used their hands when they couldn’t even muster the energy to give each other blowjobs anymore.

When the urgency was finally gone, Geralt looked up at Jaskier. The bard looked wrecked – drying cum decorated his chest, stuck on his chest hairs and on the stubble around his chin; he had angry purplish bruising on the side of his neck like he had been attacked by a vampire, as well as long red welts down the sides of his torso where Geralt’s nails had bit into him…

He looked well-fucked.

“Do you think it’ll take?” He asked the bard matter-of-factly.

Jaskier shrugged, smiling lazily.

“We’ll find out soon enough.”

Hmm, that much was true. That thought helped Geralt relax and finally, he fell into a peaceful -and much-needed- slumber.

* * *

Geralt wasn’t sure at first, but then, about four or five weeks later, he noticed a shift in his appetite and he began to feel a little bit queasy in the mornings.

Yes, he was pregnant. He told Jaskier, and received the biggest bear-hug in response.

* * *

When Geralt was almost four months along, they went to see Yennefer and Tissaia for a checkup as usual. Tissaia did her usual thing, holding her hands over Geralt’s stomach and using that strange, soft blueish light to see through him with some sort of magic (that required wilting a huge bunch of flowers).

She had only just begun when her brows rose suddenly, but then relaxed just as quickly, as if nothing had happened – but Geralt knew Tissaia now and he wasn’t buying that.

“What was that just now?” He asked demandingly.

“Whatever do you mean?” Tissaia asked, while at the same time giving Yennefer a strange sort of look, that made the sorceress gasp for a second, before she composed herself.

“What the hell is going on??” Geralt asked, feeling increasingly frustrated at being left in the dark. Jaskier was looking back and forth between Tissaia and Yennefer, and then back at Geralt – apparently just as confused as his mate was, until suddenly, his features froze and he looked at Tissaia with something akin to trepidation.

“Oh sweet Melitele --- you are NOT serious, are you?” Jaskier asked. Whatever he saw on Tissaia’s face was apparently not the answer he was hoping for, because the Alpha suddenly paled. “Sweet holy shitty _fuck_ \- I need to sit down…”

Geralt was going to strangle them.

“Would somebody tell me what the fuck is wrong – is the babe okay??”

Jaskier had finally collapsed onto a nearby chair, and he replied without looking up at his mate. “It’s twins. We’re having twins.. again.”

“ _What?_ ” Geralt wasn’t proud at his comeback, but to his credit, he felt shellshocked by the news. “No-no-no -- that can’t be…”

Jaskier was shaking his head, muttering to himself. “Six children… sweet-sweet Melitele… _six…_.”

Geralt frowned, looking at Tissaia – who wasn’t confirming their assumptions, but she also wasn’t refuting them, which was as good as an admission – and then his gaze fell upon Yennefer who was grinning like a maniac.

“Well, look at that, Geralt! You are so fertile you just can’t help but fall pregnant whenever Jaskier so much as looks at you, can you??”

“That’s not how babe’s are conceived, last time I checked.” Tissaia quipped in. Geralt stared at him with a look of utter betrayal and disappointment.

Yennefer laughed, continuing her teasing mercilessly: “No indeed, I’m sure Jaskier has done a _great deal_ more than that…”

“Could you both shut up, please??” Jaskier barked angrily. “I am about to have my sweet-sweet sleep taken away from me for another six to eight months at least! And by twins, no less… When Estelle and Aden were born almost seven years ago, I barely got a wink of rest for weeks!!! – I swear I’d aged more in a matter of months than I did in the seven years before and after that combined!!!!” The bard buried his face in his hands, groaning miserably.

Geralt felt a pang of guilt at his mate’s candid admission – he knew that having the twins had been a hard time for the Alpha – hell, it was a hard time for Geralt as well, and he was a _Witcher_ , used to extreme duress and the most demanding of conditions… but yes, having to look after two newborns – as first time parents, no less – had been tough. And they were about to have to do it again, because of him…

“Aww, don’t cry, bard!” Yennefer chipped in. “You may get a few more wrinkles, but what’s that in the face of gaining two more wonderful children, who’ll stay with you until you’re grey and old…”

“I _WILL_ be grey and old _because_ of them!” Jaskier retorted, sighing dramatically.

Unexpectedly, Yennefer broke out in a wide smile.

“Oh, you may be surprised… I have a feeling it may take longer for you to grow old than you’d expect, Jask’.”

Jaskier and Geralt looked up at the sorceress in confusion, and to their surprise, it was Tissaia who spoke before Yennefer had a chance to continue.

“You shouldn’t.” She said, hissing angrily. “You’ve meddled enough into the matters of chaos and---”

“Blablabla, sure!” Yennefer drawled, rolling her eyes. “Says the sorceress who just as good as told an Omega that he was carrying twins when you believe such things should be kept secret, because they’re a ‘bad omen’.”

Tissaia didn’t reply, just gave Yennefer a strict look. Instead of retaliating, Yennefer did the unimaginable – she smiled and held up her hands in a placating gesture.

“Come on – what’s the harm?”

And to Geralt’s surprise, Tissaia _smiled_ in reply… Geralt was pretty sure this was the first time he had seen the older sorceress smile – without extreme circumstances, such as having just helped him bring a baby into the world.

“You’re incorrigible.” The rectoress said looking at her mate fondly.

“What are you not supposed to tell me?” Jaskier asked, eyeing Yennefer warily.

“That you’re not aging as you should be – at this rate, you may actually survive Geralt.” Yennefer said bluntly.

Her admission caused Jaskier to gape and stare, and even Geralt felt his brows rise because well – he had had an inkling that something was afoot, but even he didn’t realise the extent of it, apparently…

“It’s because of the bond isn’t it?” Geralt asked, looking at Yennefer. “It’s because he is bonded to a non-human. There are tales of mythical creatures – vampires, faeries, sirens – bonding with humans and the humans affected living unnaturally long lives.”

Yennefer nodded. “Correct. That’s what I’m assuming as well. Either that, or Jaskier here has more elvish blood in him than we’d thought.”

Jaskier looked around in bewilderment. “Elvish---?? _We???_ What, who do you mean by ‘we’? – Geralt??” He looked over at Geralt suspiciously, and the Omega did his best to appease his mate by giving him an innocent smile. “What the hell?? How many more surprises must I endure today?!!!!”

There was silence in the wake of Jaskier’s words, and then Yennefer chuckled and that caused Geralt and then even Tissaia to broke out in sound laughter as well, which only caused the bard to moan even more loudly, as he stood up and stomped over to the kitchen cabinet. “ _Fuck_ this I need a drink…!”

Geralt shot his mate a dirty look. “Stop swearing so loudly, the kids are just outside!”

Jaskier gave his mate a murderous look, but – to his credit - he did not retort; choosing instead to focus on pouring himself two generous fingers of brandy into a large mug.

The Alpha smiled with a bemused expression on his face, looking at his hands. Well – okay – yes, they didn’t look like the hands of a man nearing forty and five years, but he’d always assumed it was because he had good genes and – well, his grandparents had lived quite long lives too, actually… heck, they two of them (on his mother’s side) were still alive and kicking and they must have been well into their _nineties_ now… Which, yes – that was extraordinary, he had just never thought…

“Elvish blood…?” Jaskier muttered. “Fucking hell!”

He startled a bit when Geralt chose to reach out and grab said hand he had been looking at. “And we’re having twins again.” The Witcher said, smiling widely at his mate.

Jaskier finally gave in and returned the smile. “Life _is_ good, ey?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! 
> 
> I consider the story complete at this point. I am hoping to write a nice little Epilogue eventually, to sort of close down all the storylines and bring everything together, but I don't know when that will happen... so I have marked this work as completed for the time being. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos - it was truly amazing to see the response this fic received! I am forever grateful for this experience. Thank you!


	33. Epilogue / Bonus Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geralt and Jaskier's little family becomes complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap on the kids' ages and names (it's hard to keep track I know!) 
> 
> From eldest to youngest so far: 
> 
> Aden (boy) and Estelle (girl) (twins) age 9 years
> 
> Zombor (boy) age 5 and a half years
> 
> Jolenta (girl) age 2 years
> 
> and Geralt is currently pregnant with twins as we've learnt at the end of the previous chapter...
> 
> it is now 7 months later compared to the previous chapter... let's see what happens!!! :D

Brianna and Élodie were born on a lovely warm summer’s day, as expected.

What wasn't expected was the fact that Tissaia and Yennefer didn’t get there in time to oversee the twins’ birth, because they were busy with an issue of their own: Tissaia’s heat, as they’ve learnt of it after the fact.

On the actual day itself, all Geralt and Jaskier knew for sure was that the sorceresses were not responding to the xenovox – at all.

A highly unusual occurrence.

Thankfully, the birth was uneventful – aside from being painful and exhausting as usual – although for the first two-or-three hours Geralt was forced listen to Jaskier’s panicked rambling about how it was “ _an utter and complete disaster!”_ that Yen and Tissaia weren’t coming and that they were all “ _going to die_ ”…

Right up until – in the wake of an awfully stubborn contraction- Geralt told him in no uncertain terms to go to the pub _right now_ and to take the little ones with himself.

“Ummm- right—“, Jaskier stammered, clearly intimated by his mate’s murderous glare. “The little ones--? You mean, Jolenta and Zombor then? Are you sure you’ll be okay with Estelle and Aden…?”

Geralt shot Jaskier another glare, looking around the room meaningfully: the twins were outside, playing away merrily in the garden. Aden and Estelle were both quite mature for their age, and as children who had grown up on a farm, they were well-versed in taking care of themselves and the animals around them.

Jaskier seemed to have caught on to Geralt’s meaning because he nodded haphazardly.

“Okay, yeah, got you! I’ll tell the twins that I’m leaving them with you. If you need anything just give them a shout-“

The Alpha’s concern was still clear- which was very charming, Geralt had to admit, as he gave Jaskier a fond glance:

“Jaskier, you’ve just brought me a hot water bottle, a huge jug of iced drinking water, and I am currently sitting in a tub of warm water – I think I will be okay for the next few hours.” Geralt said.

“I know… I’m sorry – I just... I can’t help but worry! I’m useless, I know!” Jaskier replied, giving a great sigh.

Geralt sighed as well – due to the pain of the contractions, but he refocused on his mate as soon as it had passed.

“You’re not useless, just… there’s nothing more you can do. I’d rather you didn’t worry. The twins can go and call for help if needed. You just… go and get some rest with the little ones, you can return in the morning.”

Jaskier nodded dutifully, giving him one more bone-crushing hug before he finally left, gathering little Jolenta from the bedroom who was having a nap, before going outside to collect Zombor.

There’s the sounds of crying coming from outside -and then suddenly Aden and Estelle were tearing into the room.

Estelle spoke first as always:

“Papa told us that you’re in labour Daddy! That means we’ll meet our little siblings soon, right?”

“That’s right, Estelle,” Geralt nodded, smiling proudly at his daughter. “Now – you remember what how it was when Jolenta was born?”

Estelle nodded. “Yes, Auntie Yen said you were moaning because it was hard work bringing the babe into the world. And also when our cat had her kittens earlier this year, she was meowing when the babies were coming out!”

“That’s right.” Geralt nodded, smirking slightly at being compared to _a cat_ of all things, but the analogy made sense, so he decided not to comment and just mention that to Jaskier earlier… he would find that hilarious for sure! “So umm – please don’t worry if I swear, or if I yell, or if I make sounds… it’s like when I am was lifting those heavy beams when we were building the chicken coop, remember?”

“Yeah, you said the F word then!” Aden chimed in with glee.

“Yes, and you said we can say the F word, but only if something hurts very much.” Estelle added.

 _Gods_ – the twins were turning out to be true menaces…

Instead of arguing Geralt just sighed.

“That’s right. So – I want you both to keep playing: you can do whatever you please, just don’t go too far from the house. If I shout your name, I expect you to come here. I will call you in when it’s lunchtime.”

The twins nodded eagerly, and just like that, they were off again – clearly both of them were happy that Jaskier wasn’t around to force them to practice their letters or their numbers. This was like a holiday to them.

Not so much for Geralt, who spent the next four hours or so – almost until sundown – grunting and groaning in the tub. Eventually, when he could feel that the first baby was close to being born, he got out, because he didn’t want to deal with the blood and mess that would be a pain to clean out of the tub without Yen’s or Tissaia’s magic – so he grabbed some leather skins and some clean towels, draped them over their bed and settled himself down there instead.

Thank goodness, both the babes were born strong and healthy; both born with just a few minutes in between. When Geralt was holding them both in his arms, he finally took the time to look them over properly: counting all their little fingers and toes – all correct thankfully, and he checked their genders – and _oh sweet holy hell!_

Estelle was going to be ecstatic, but Geralt could feel himself _blanching_ at the sight -- -

Because they were both girls.

Geralt had two more daughters…

So that meant that out of their six children, they had two boys (Aden and the little Zombor) and four girls (in order: Estelle, Jolenta and now two more newborn little baby girls).

Once he had had some time to gather himself, Geralt tied off the twins’ cords- just like he had seen Tissaia do it before at his previous births – and once he was satisfied with the knots, he had cut both of the cords gently with a knife.

He cleaned the twins off as best as he could, although he didn’t have the energy to give them a proper bath- but Jaskier could him with that in the morning, and they were both breathing fine, so Geralt wasn’t too worried. He swaddled them both tightly and settled back onto the pillows, taking full advantage of the relative calm of the moment, and taking the time to admire his daughters – finally!

He was stunned to see that one of them looked quite a lot like himself when he was young: she had dark eyes and a strong chin. The other baby looked similar to how Zombor had looked as a babe: she was chubby and had soft, dainty features – reminiscent of Jaskier’s mother is Jaskier’s opinion was to be believed.

As Geralt took in the appearance of his new-born daughters, appreciating both of their unique beauty, he could feel a bone-deep tiredness settling over him.

Gods, he needed a nap…

He was just about to stand up to place the twins into the crib, when suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and then it creaked open, revealing Estelle’s face.

“Daddy, is everything okay? You were very quiet- _oh!”_

Estelle’s breath was stolen as soon as her eyes had glanced upon the two little bundles in Geralt’s arms. “Oh Daddy, it’s really twins!!!” She squeaked.

“Yes, they are my lovely. You can call your brother as well.”

Estelle didn’t need to be told twice: she shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Aden! _Aden_ – our new siblings are here!”

And just like that, suddenly, Geralt was encircled by his eldest children from both sides as they took turns admiring their new siblings.

“Daddy- are they boys or girls?” Estelle asked with clear excitement. Aden also shot him an anxious look…

Geralt smiled.

“They are both girls.”

Estelle’s _“yess!”_ and Aden’s disappointed _“oh”_ rang out at the same time.

Geralt felt a pang of sympathy as he took in Aden’s face, so he nudged his son. “But hey- girls can like boys’ games as well! Maybe one of your little sister’s will turn out to be a tomboy. Like Auntie Yen.”

Aden seemed to consider that.

“Hmm, I guess so. Like boy’s can enjoy girl’s games too? Zombor _does_ like to play with Estelle’s dolls nowadays.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but that doesn’t count because he plays _war_ with them! It’s awful!”

Geralt scoffed. “Now, now. It’s not nice to judge others based on what they like: to each their own. Now – what’s the time?”

Aden replied instantly. “It’s almost an hour till sundown yet. Why?”

“Well, I told Jaskier that he should stay at the inn until morning, but since your little siblings arrived more quickly than we’d expected, there is no reason they should have to stay that long. If one of you would be kind enough to go tell them…?”

Aden’s eyes glittered. “Can I take Lightning?”

Lightning was the biggest horse on the ranch. A beautiful black colt with a fiery temperament and amazing speed to match. It was clear that he was race-horse material, but he needed lots of training – which Geralt had been sadly neglecting lately being as late into his pregnancy as he was.

He shook his head decisively. “No, Aden. I promise, you can pet Lightning later, but please take Roach. I need you back in one piece.”

Aden seemed to sense the importance of Geralt’s request, because he did not argue, despite his clear disappointment.

Geralt shot his son a grateful smile. “Thank you…” He felt overwhelmed with warmth as he looked over Estelle and Aden – nine years old now, and already knowing and understanding _so much…_

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Geralt that had been forming in his mind for a while; but now he was sure about it.

“You know what? You’ve helped me a lot today, so in exchange I think it’s only fair that you’ll get to name your new siblings: you can each pick a name for one of them.”

Estelle and Aden both lit up all of a sudden.

“Really? Yess!!” Aden exclaimed, jumping in excitement, before pausing abruptly. “Oh- but… I’ve only thought of a _boy’s_ name!” He said, blushing furiously.

Estelle smirked smugly. “Hah! I’ve got a girl’s name!”

Geralt smiled. _Typical Estelle._

“That’s good, Estelle. What was the name you’ve thought of, Aden?”

“Umm, Brian…” Aden replied hesitantly. Geralt nodded.

“And what’s the name you thought of, Estelle?”

“Élodie!” Estelle proclaimed, beaming.

“Hmm…” Geralt frowned. “So… how about… Élodie...” He said, pointing at the twin that had the soft features. “And Brianna?” He said, pointing at the daughter who resembled himself more: with her deep dark eyes and her stubborn little chin.

“Brianna – yes, I like that!” Aden said, smiling in elation.

“Hmm… it _is_ a good name.” Estelle conceded, although it was clear that admitting that was hard for her: she was fiercely competitive and always strived to be better than her twin brother at everything.

Geralt smiled. “I like them too – both of them. Brianna and Élodie – these are their names then.”

As if on cue, Élodie wake up, wailing loudly at the sound of her name, perhaps. Geralt had to take over, standing up to rock Élodie gently, while he put Brianna into the middle of the bed gingerly. Thankfully, she was fast asleep.

“I’ll tell Papa that we have named them!” Aden said giddily, turning on his heels.

And like that, the twins were off: Estelle helped Aden saddle Roach and she helped her brother onto the back of the mare (as that was still quite a challenge for either twin to do on their own.

Once Aden was gone, Estelle saw to heating up their dinner: more of the leftover stew they had had for lunch.

Élodie was back to sleeping by then, and Geralt got up to help Estelle.

“Come on now, my Princess – you’ve worked more than enough for today. I forbid you from doing any more work today.” At Estelle’s defiant glare, he added playfully. “That’s an order!”

Estelle smirked. “Well, allright then… if it’s an order.” She went to her and Aden’s room and began to rummage around – looking for her cross-stich project, no doubt.

Geralt smiled fondly. He would be damned if Estelle didn’t present as an Alpha. She was so stubborn and she wasn’t afraid of anything. Maybe he should make a bet with Jaskier once the Alpha had returned…

The sun was just slipping behind the horizon when Geralt heard the tell-tale neighing of Roach again, and Jaskier came bursting in the door with Jolenta in his arms and Zombor on his back.

A quick glance outside confirmed that Jaskier had borrowed the inn-keeper’s horse- again.

The impatient bastard. Or sentimental, more like.

Jaskier seemed half-crazed with worry and he practically coddled Geralt, forcing him to sit down and looking him over for any signs of injury despite his protests. Then he went and did the same with Élodie and Brianna – taking Zombor with him because he was very keen to see his new siblings. Jolenta was half asleep, so Geralt took her and lifted her from the chair where Jaskier had placed her, gently, brining her to her room – the one she shared with Zombor.

Come to think of it, they would need to add another room soon: maybe not this year yet, but by next year, for sure. There just wasn’t enough room for two more toddler’s in either of the children’s rooms: and in any case, they had found that it was practical for the siblings who were close in age to board together, because there was a lesser chance of them waking up the other sibling during the night. Older children were lighter sleepers compared to the younger ones, and all…

They had learnt all this via trial and error. And as that occurred to him, Geralt smiled fondly, again.

Never in his life would he have thought that he would feel like a semi-competent parent, one day…

_And yet, here we are._

Suddenly, there was the sound of a huge crash coming from the living room, along with Estelle’s surprised shriek.

Instincts on alert, Geralt tore into the room within a split second, reaching for the sword on the wall – before he realised that he was looking at Tissaia and Yennefer.

In the next moment, he smelled he potent scent of heat – and he suddenly understood why Tissaia and Yen were late.

“Auntie Yen! Auntie Tissaia!” Estelle shouted, running up to hug them both.

Tissaia looked flustered, which was a rare occurrence for her, and she looked up at Geralt anxiously.

“Apologies for our tardiness, it was all my fault… is there anything I can do for you?”

Geralt smirked.

“Yes – please sit down. Dinner will be ready in a minute, Estelle had heated it up for us. It’s just stew, but I imagine you could use anything right now-“

“Oh yes, we are starving!” Yennefer said, smiling contentedly as she took a seat on the bench by the dinner table. “Yes, unfortunately as Tissaia had said we had been very busy- there was simply no way we could’ve made it earlier.”

“Why were you so busy?” Estelle asked, voice full of naked curiosity.

Tissaia choked, looking absolutely mortified.

Yennefer piped in. “Umm – we were err… Brewing potions! That’s it. It was a time-sensitive potion. Very sensitive—ouch!” Yen gave her mate an indignant glare, as she had clearly kicked her under the table, but Estelle didn’t notice any of that, seeming to consider the explanation.

“Oh – a time-sensitive potion! Makes sense, yes. Can you teach me how to make that one day?”

Geralt couldn’t help it, he chortled unabashedly.

And of course that was when Jaskier burst into the room, only to be scared out of his skin by the sight of their unexpected visitors.

“What the fuck?? Yen – Tissaia??? I thought you were both dead or near-dead battling some kind of monster..?? --- _Oh…_ ” Jaskier had clearly taken a sniff of the air and was quickly realising the real reason of Yen’s and Tissaia’s tardiness.

“No!” Estelle piped in proudly. “They were brewing a _sensitive potion! -_ Right, Auntie Tissaia?”

All the adults in the room burst out laughing, leaving poor Estelle and Aden utterly confused.

Thankfully they moved on rather quickly from that, filing away the incident as “ _adults being adults_ ”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey All! 
> 
> I wanted to give you a lovely ending/ bonus chapter! It didn't sit right with me that I left the ending hanging there. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fluffly little extra chapter. Thank you very much for reading, take care xx
> 
> Ps. 
> 
> Full list of Geralt's and Jaskier's children (for those who like Lists like me):
> 
> Aden (boy) and Estelle (girl) (twins) age 9 years
> 
> Zombor (boy) age 5 and a half years
> 
> Jolenta (girl) age 2 years
> 
> Brianna (girl) and Élodie (girl) newborns


End file.
